


Noble Fortitude

by ArishoksBride



Series: Noble Fortitude [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Frequent Swearing, Gen, Sexual Humor, Sexual References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-06-03 23:55:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 134,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6632212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArishoksBride/pseuds/ArishoksBride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a re-telling of the events of the human noble canon, Aedan Cousland, with many twists and turns of the plot, some subtle and some not so subtle. Introducing two new characters to the mix and a love triangle, not to mention fighting for the family honor and saving the world, Aedan Cousland has his hands full! This saga has been in the works for five or six years and will be quite long, so if you like a lengthy read this might just be for you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Deceiver

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one starts off slow, but picks up at a faster pace as the next installments arrive. All cannon and characters belong to Bioware.

__

# Prologue: The Deceiver 

# 

__

Aedan Cousland awoke at dawn. He slowly opened his eyes, immediately feeling the heavy weight at his feet. He grinned as he saw Jovey, his loyal mabari lying across his ankles, great pink tongue lolled to the side, sleeping. Aedan gave him a gentle nudge and the hound huffed sleepily and moved aside so his master could rise.

Within the next half hour he was bathed and dressed and headed for the kitchens when he was stopped by one of the house guards. “My lord,” he began, saluting. 

“Yes, Bane? What is it?” Aedan asked.

“The Teryn has requested your presence in the main hall sir.” Bane saluted and returned to his duties. 

“Thank you, Bane. Good day.” Aedan nodded and made his way to the main hall, not overly curious to what his father wanted. In all honesty, he was out of sorts since he’d heard about the King summoning his troops and rallying against the darkspawn threat to the south. His father had forbade him to join the soldiers. He was the youngest and his place was here in the castle. His elder brother Fergus, however was going.

It didn’t take him long to reach his destination and when he entered the room he frowned. His father was there, but so was another person. Arl Howe, one of his father’s oldest friends and Teryn of Amaranthine to the east.. The Arl had never given Aedan any reason to dislike him, but for as long as he could remember, he never could warm to the man.

“...I’ll send my eldest off with my men. You and I will ride together, just like the old days.” Aedan’s father, Teryn Bryce Cousland, had his back to the door and was talking to Howe.

Howe chuckled wryly, saying, “True, but we both had less grey in our hair then! And we fought Orlesian’s then, not monsters.”

Bryce nodded and said with a smile, “At least the smell will be the same!” When he heard the door open he turned around and his smile widened when he saw Aedan. “Oh, I’m sorry pup, I didn’t see you there.” He then turned briefly to Howe then back again to Aedan. “Howe, you remember my son?”

Howe nodded, smiling. “Yes, and I see he’s become a rather strong lad. Pleased to see you again, young man.”

Aedan smiled and nodded back. “It’s nice to see you again also, Arl Howe.”

Howe crossed his arms and smirked. “My daughter Delilah asked after you earlier. Maybe I’ll bring her along next time?”

“I would like that, yes.” Aedan smiled. He had always liked Delilah, though a shame who her father was. Never the less it seemed that was what the older man wanted to hear. 

“Very good. I suppose I could arrange a meeting.” Howe finished.

Aedan thought about commenting further when Bryce intervened. “At any rate pup, I summoned you here for a reason. While your brother and I are away I’m leaving you behind to look after the castle.”

Aedan’s smile vanished. “I thought as much, Fergus and I have already talked about this. He assumed that would be the decision you would have come to.”

Bryce folded his arms, preparing for an argument. “Only a token force is remaining here and you must keep peace in the region. You know what they say about mice when the cat is away, yes?” Aedan thought about arguing that he was going to be needed and that his mother was more than capable of running the castle on her own, but thought better of it. He would rather say these things in private.

He resigned himself to a small sigh and nodded his head in agreement. Bryce smiled fondly. “Excellent. There is also someone you must meet.” He turned to one of the nearby guards. “Please show Duncan in.”

The guard nodded and opened the door. A tall man with a muscular frame dressed in mail and cloth wielding two swords entered the hall. He was tanned, likely of Nevarran or Rivani ancestry, with smooth dark hair tied back in a long ponytail that was beginning to show signs of greying, and sporting a rather glossy well groomed beard. He bowed before Bryce gracefully. ”It is an honor to be a guest in your hall, Teryn Cousland.”

Howe’s eyes widened in surprise. “Your lordship, you didn’t mention that a Grey Warden would be present.”

Bryce turned to Howe and said in all seriousness, “Duncan arrived just recently, unannounced. Is there a problem?”

Howe seemed to backtrack a little, almost nervously and Aedan found himself staring acutely at the older man. “Oh, of course not, but a guest of this stature demands certain protocols. I am at a... disadvantage.”

Bryce watched him intensely for a few moments before shrugging it off. “We rarely have the pleasure of seeing one in person, that’s true.” He then turned to Aedan. “Pup, Brother Alder has taught you who the Warden’s are, I hope?”

Aedan smiled. This was something he was interested in. “Yes of course. They’re great warriors of valor.” He smiled at Duncan who returned the gesture.

Bryce nodded. “They are the heroes of legend, who ended the Blights and saved us all. Duncan is looking for recruits before joining us and his fellow Wardens in the south. I believe he has his eye on Sir Gilmore.”

“If I might be so bold, I would suggest that your son is also an excellent candidate.” Duncan said, eying the youngest Cousland up and down thoughtfully.

“Honor though that might be, this is my son you’re talking about. Unless you intend on invoking the Right of Conscription...” Bryce cut in curtly, clearly not approving the direction of the wardens train of thought. 

Duncan shook his head. “Have no fear, while we need as many good recruits as we can find, I have no intentions of forcing the issue.”

Bryce took a moment to regain his composure before taking a breath and saying to Aedan, “Pup, will you ensure Duncan’s requests are seen to while I’m gone?”

Aedan nodded, disappointed that he wouldn’t get his chance to shine. “Of course, father.”

Bryce unfolded his arms and relaxed them at his sides. “In the meantime, find Fergus and tell him to lead the troops to Ostagar ahead of me.” 

“Alright. Where is he?” Aedan asked.

“Upstairs in his chambers no doubt. Spending some last moments with his wife, and my grandson. Be a good lad and do as I’ve asked. We’ll talk soon.” Bryce replied in a dismissive tone.

Aedan bowed and took his leave. “Arl Howe, Duncan.” They bowed back and Aedan headed for the family wing of the castle. 

He was stopped by Sir Gilmore who informed him that his hound had been caught in the kitchens again. With an impatient sigh he went to collect his mabari. The two of them had almost reached the family wing when he ran into his mother, who was entertaining some guests. “...And my dear Bryce brought this back from Orlais last year. The marquis who gave it to him was drunk as I understand and mistook Bryce for the King!” Eleanor chuckled. “Ah, here is my handsome son. I take it by the presence of that troublesome hound of yours, that the situation in the kitchen is handled?”

“Yes, mother. It’s settled.” Aedan smiled, kissing her cheek.

“Excellent. You’ve always had a way with Nan. Darling you remember Lady Landra? Bann Lorens’ wife?” Eleanor asked serenely.

“I believe we met at your mother’s last spring salon,” the Arlessa smiled appreciatively.

“Yes, and you look as lovely now as you did then.” Aedan complimented as he kissed her cheek, resulting in the older woman to blush. 

“You’re too kind, dear boy. This is my son Dairen and my lady in waiting, Iona. Do say something dear.” The Arlessa motioned for the pair to step forward.

Dairen made some talk about the weather while the elvish woman merely blushed and muttered something about the castle. Aedan just smiled politely, wishing he was anywhere else. After a few minutes more of awkward conversation about the weather, Lady Landra excused herself along with the other two. 

As she watched them turn the corner and out of earshot, Eleanor turned to her youngest son and sighed. “You should say goodbye to Fergus while you have the chance.”

He sighed deeply. “Why can’t I go with father and Fergus?” Aedan tried not to sound like a whiny child, but that was his greatest wish and he was getting sick of being told no.

“Because you are needed here, darling. Please do not argue, there is much that needs to be done once they leave, you’ll see.” Eleanor chided, also in a final tone. 

He knew better than to argue with his mother. “Yes mother. Will you be staying on here with me?”

“For a while, then I’ll be moving on with Lady Landra to her estate and keep her company for a time. Your father thinks my presence here might undermine your authority.” She smiled when she saw the look of relief cross his blonde features.

“If that’s what you want.” He tried not to sound too eager, but his mother knew him all too well.

“No, this is good. I thought you might be nervous being in the castle alone. I needn’t have worried.” The Teryna smirked as she pat his arm playfully.

Deciding that it was time to get on with it, Aedan returned the gesture and gently removed his mother’s hand. “I must leave now mother.”

“Alright, I love you darling.” Eleanor kissed his cheek and allowed him to pass.

Aedan took the steps two at a time and it didn’t take him long to reach his older brother’s room. Fergus was there, as was his sister-in-law and nephew. “Is there really going to be a war, Papa? Will you bring me back a sword?” asked Orin.

“That’s sword, Orin, and I’ll bring you back the mightiest one I can find, I promise. I’ll be back before you know it.” Fergus laughed, kneeling down to hug his son.

“I wish victory was indeed so certain, my heart is disquiet.” Sophia, Fergus’ wife said quietly.

“Don’t frighten the boy love, I speak the truth and here’s my little brother to see me off. Now dry your eyes love, and wish me well.” Fergus rose to his feet and the two brothers clasped arms. 

“Want me to wait outside?” Aedan didn’t want to intrude.

Before he could turn around, Fergus gripped him tighter. “Stay, I’d like to say farewell.”

“You were right about father. I wish I could go with you,” he sighed, peering through the tight rectangular windows and watching the guards turnabout on their patrols.

“I wish you could come. It’ll be tiring killing all those darkspawn myself.” Fergus smiled grimly, trying to make light of the mood. 

Aedan released Fergus’ arm and leaned against the wall, still staring at the soldiers below. “Do you really think the war will be over quickly? Father seems to think so.”

“Word from the south is that the battles have gone well. There’s no evidence that this is a true Blight, just a large raid.” Fergus said reassuringly, frowning a little at his younger brother.

“Could that be true?” Sophia asked, concerned.

“I’ll know for myself soon enough,” Fergus replied. “Pray for me love and I’ll be back within a month or two.”

Aedan turned to look up at him and patted him on the back. “You’ll be missed brother.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m sure I’ll freeze in the southern rain and be completely jealous of you up here warm and safe.” Fergus smiled, playfully punching Aedan in the arm.

“I am positively thrilled that you will be so miserable, husband.” Sophia said sarcastically. She was not happy about this arrangement at all.

“Did you know there’s a Grey Warden in the castle?” Aedan asked, trying to change the subject.

“Really?” Asked Orin. “Was he riding a griffon?” The little boy was beaming from ear to ear.

“Shh, Orin. Griffons only exist in stories now.” Sophia scolded, eager to hear what else her brother-in-law had to say.

“I’d heard that. Did he say why he’s come?” Fergus asked, also keen.

“He’s going to test Sir Gilmore.” Aedan replied, as he pushed off the wall and folded his arms.

“Good for him! I hope he makes it! If I were a Grey Warden though, I’d have my eye on you. Not that father would ever allow it.” Fergus and Aedan exchanged knowing looks.

“I would love to join though. Got to be better than watching this castle.” Aedan sighed again. “Oh well, can’t be helped I suppose. By the way, father asked me to tell you to leave without him.” Fergus did not miss the subtle longing tone in his voice.

“Then the Arl’s men are delayed. you’d think his men are walking backwards! Well I’d better get underway. So many darkspawn to behead, so little time. Off we go then, I’ll see you soon my love.” Fergus embraced his family and turned to leave when he saw his parents enter the room.

Bryce smiled and said, “I hope, dear boy, that you intend to wait for us before you take your leave.”

Eleanor hugged him and said, “Be well, my son. I will pray for your safety every day you are gone.” 

Aedan turned to his mother and said with a big smile, “He’ll be fine mother. You worry too much.”

“I keep telling you, no darkspawn will ever best me!” Fergus joked.

“The Maker preserve and sustain us all,” Sophia said quietly. “Watch over our sons, husbands and fathers and bring them safely back to us.”

“And bring us some ale and wenches while you’re at it!” Fergus laughed, much to Sophia’s ire. “Er, for the men of course!”

“Fergus! You would say this, in front of your mother?!” Sophia exclaimed incredulously.

“What’s a wench?” Orin piped up innocently. “Is that what you pull on to bring the bucket up from the well?”

“A wench is a woman that pours the ale in a tavern, Orin, or a woman who drinks a lot of ale.” Bryce corrected.

“Bryce!” Eleanor exclaimed. “Maker’s breath! It’s like living with a pair of small boys!”

“I’ll miss you mother dear. You’ll take care of her brother, won’t you?” Fergus laughed, hugging her again, but directing his question at Aedan.

“Of course.” The younger Cousland replied.

“Oh good, how wonderful to know I’ll be so well taken care of!” Eleanor laughed, returning the hug with zest.

“Enough,” Bryce laughed. “Enough. Pup, you’ll want to get an early night, you have much to do tomorrow.”

“I suppose I will at that. Take care brother.” The two men embraced and Aedan took his leave.

* * * * *

Later that evening Aedan was awoken to loud clinking noises, then bashing against his bedroom door. Startled, Jovey began to growl threateningly. Aedan quickly grabbed some light armor he kept nearby for emergencies, as well as his sword that rested against his bed. He was about to open the door when it flung open and a guard slumped forward, arrows in his back. Aedan quickly rolled forward and slashed out, wounding the bowman enough that he dropped his bow and Aedan slit his throat.

He heard footsteps behind him and readied his blade, Jovey staying by his side. He was about to lunge at the person when he realised it was his mother, equipped with her bow and arrows. “Darling!” she exclaimed. “I heard fighting outside and I feared the worst. Are you hurt?”

“I was about to ask you that, actually. It seems we are under attack.” Aedan replied, drawing her close.

“They never got through the door, thanks to you.” She smiled gratefully before turning grim. “A scream woke me up. There were men in the hall, so I barred the door. Did you see their shields? Those are Howe’s men! Why would they attack us?”

Aedan’s face grew ashen. “He’s betrayed father. He attacks while our troops are gone, that bastard!”

Eleanor’s face went white. “you don’t think Howe’s men were delayed... on purpose, do you? That bastard! I’ll cut his lying throat myself!” She muttered something else but before he could make out what she added, “Did you see your father? He never came to bed.”

“No I haven’t. I was in my room...” Aedan’s mind was whirling, he hoped that his father was alright, but with all this commotion going on he couldn’t be sure.

“We must find him!” she exclaimed.

“We will, mother. But for the moment I need to check on Sophia and Orin.” Aedan said, gripping his sword tighter and fearing the worst.

“Andraste’s mercy!” she said, “What if they went into your brother’s room first?! Let’s check on them quickly, then look for Bryce downstairs.”

“Agreed,” Aedan said and quickly made his way across the room to where his sister-in-law and nephew slept. What he saw made him shake with rage. His ten year old nephew and sister-in-law lay slain on the floor, blood smeared all over the corner of the room. They didn’t even have a chance.

“No!” Eleanor sobbed. “My little Orin. What manner of fiends slaughters innocents?!”

“Why would they do this?” Aedan demanded, more to himself than his mother.

“Howe’s not even taking hostages. He means to kill all of us! Oh, poor Fergus... let’s go, I don’t want to see this!” Eleanor had to look away for a moment and Aedan moved her gently out of the room, saying a silent prayer for the departed. 

They got only a few feet away before two more men attacked them. Aedan pushed his mother down and charged them both, cutting one down right away and scooping up his shield. The other attacker tried to cleave him in the same moment but Aedan was quicker. He brought up the shield and took the blow easily then pushed back and the second attacker fell on his back. Aedan wasted no time in bringing his sword down and into his enemy, his rage fueled further by the blood splatter against his cheeks.

They went to check on his mother’s guests but they too had suffered the same fate as his beloved family. Eleanor was wracked with guilt and needed a moment to recoup and Aedan could feel the blood pumping in his ears, he would have vengeance. When she was able, they made their way out of the family quarters and down into the atrium. Parts of the castle were on fire and some parts completely collapsed, blocking certain parts entirely. 

Through tears, Eleanor grabbed Aedan’s arm and trembled quietly, “Can you hear the fighting? Howe’s men must be everywhere.”

Aedan was torn - he desperately wanted to join the fight, but he didn’t want to drag his mother into more danger. He decided to let her guide them. “What should we do?”

“The front gates! That’s where your father must be!” she exclaimed.

“Is there nothing else we can do?” He didn’t want to leave like this, he couldn't leave like this.

“I have my treasury key, we’ll go there first and take the Cousland family sword from the vault,” she said thoughtfully. “If anything is worth fighting to keep out of Howe’s hands, it’s that sword. But it may be a dangerous path.”

“That’s it, we can’t just let Howe win!” Aedan roared angrily. 

“Listen darling, we haven’t much time. If we can’t find your father, you must get out of here alive.” Eleanor said, ignoring her sons’ inevitable rebuttal. “Without you and Fergus the entire Cousland line dies here. If Howe’s men are already inside then Howe must control the castle. We must use the servants’ entry into the larder to escape, do you hear me?”

Aedan shook his fists angrily. “I want Howe dead! Mother, I won’t let him get away with this!”

“Then survive, and visit vengeance upon him!” she said just as angrily. Aedan nodded and swore that he would, no matter how long it took. It took them longer than expected to navigate the debris and they encountered many of Howe’s guards. Aedan cut most of them down easily, he really was impressive on the battlefield. What he missed his mother chased down with her bow. They arrived at the vault in record time and he killed the guards protecting the entrance. 

He quickly changed into some mail armor and grabbed the family sword and stronger shield before heading back out to the main hall. Most of the entrances were blocked by debris and toppled statues, but they managed to find one door still intact. Aedan ushered his mother in once the coast was clear.

Inside was Sir Gilmore giving orders to what remain of the castle defenses. “Go! Man the gates! Keep those bastards out for as long as you can.” When he noticed the two nobles he quickly knelt down to address them. “My lady, my lord. You’re both alive! I was certain Howe’s men had gotten through.”

“They did get through!” Aedan growled furiously.

“They killed Sophia and Orin,” Eleanor sobbed. “I can’t believe it... Are you injured?”

“Don’t worry about me, your ladyship, thank the Maker you two are unharmed.” Sir Gilmore replied. “When I realized what was happening, it was all I could do to shut the gates, but they won’t keep Howe’s men out long. If you’ve another way out of the castle, use it quickly.”

“We’re not leaving without father, where is he?” Aedan demanded darkly as he flexed his sword arm.

Gilmore’s face was ashen. “When I last saw the Teryn, he’d been badly wounded. I urged him not to go but he was determined to find you. He went to the kitchen. I believe he thought to find you at the servant’s exit, in the larder.”

“Bless you, Sir Gilmore,” Eleanor said gratefully. “May the Maker watch over you.”

“Maker watch over us all,” he replied before bowing and went to help the men hold the gates. Aedan and Eleanor stayed a few minuets more to help hold off the attacks but before they could be overwhelmed they knew they had to leave. Gilmore nodded for them to go and Eleanor gave him one last grateful glance before she was whisked away by her son.

When they managed to reach the Teryn, he was curled up on the floor bleeding heavily. He looked up at them and smiled painfully. “There you both are. I was... wondering when you’d... both... get here... “ He clutched his wound but the blood kept pouring out. Eleanor gasped and ran to his side, Aedan following swiftly behind.

“Maker’s blood, what’s happening?!” she cried. “You’re... you’re bleeding!”

“Howe’s men... found me first. Almost... did me in... right there.” Bryce managed to reply, though his voice was getting weaker by the moment and blood was beginning to drizzle from the corner of his mouth.

“Why is Howe doing this?!” Aedan demanded, angry that he felt so helpless.

“He... can’t get away with this!” Bryce cried. “The King... ack!” 

Bryce coughed up blood and collapsed before Eleanor helped him into a sitting position, worry written all over her face. “Bryce!” she said fearfully. “We must get you out of here.”

“I... won’t survive... the standing, I don’t think,” he replied gravely.

“Once Howe’s men break through the gate, they’ll find us. We must go!” Eleanor whispered desperately.

“Someone must reach Fergus,” Bryce struggled to say. “Tell him... what has happened.”

“And take vengeance!” Aedan hissed.

“Yes... vengeance...” Bryce agreed.

“Bryce no. The servant passage is right here, we can flee together, find you healing magic...” she began.

“The castle is surrounded, I cannot make it,” he said sadly.

Just then the larder door swung open and Aedan whirled around, sword ready. He lowered it once he realized it was Duncan. “I’m afraid the Teryn is correct. Howe’s men have not yet discovered this exit, but they surround the castle. Getting past will be difficult.”

“You are Duncan then?” Eleanor asked, looking him up and down briefly. “The Grey Warden?”

“Yes your ladyship,” he replied. “The Teryn and I tried to reach you sooner.”

“My son helped me get here, Maker be praised.” Eleanor reached for Aedan and squeezed his shoulder gratefully as she smiled with pride.

“I am not surprised.” Duncan said with a wry smile, looking over the youngest Cousland, impressed/

“Are you going to help us, Duncan?” was all Aedan could think to ask.

“Whatever is to be done now, it must be quick.” Eleanor said in a rush, the blood now staining her hands and running down her arms and pooling on the cobblestone floor. “They’re coming.”

“Duncan, I beg you... take my wife and son to safety.” Bryce pleaded. 

“I will, your lordship, but I fear I must ask for something in return.” Duncan replied solemnly.

“Anything!”

“What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil now loose in this world. I came to your castle seeking a recruit, the darkspawn threat demands that I leave with one.” Duncan and Bryce exchanged knowing glances before the Teryn looked away, disappointed.

“I... I understand,” he nodded grimly. Though he was dying he knew he was about to lose his son a second time and it broke his heart.

“I will take the Teryner and your son to Ostagar, to tell Fergus and the King what has happened. Then your son joins the Grey Wardens.” Duncan explained.

“So long as justice comes to Howe. I agree.” Bryce voice was painfully flat, he knew death was almost upon him.

“Then I offer you a place within the Grey Wardens. Fight with us.” Duncan said, turning to Aedan.

“My duty is to take vengeance upon Arl Howe! I cannot do both.” Aedan said, torn between what he wanted and what he was expected to do.

Duncan watched Aedan carefully. “We will inform the King, and he will punish Howe, but I am sorry, a Grey Warden’s duties take precedence, even over vengeance.”

Bryce reached out for Aedan hand. “Howe thinks he’ll use the chaos to advance himself, make him wrong pup. See that justice is done.” He coughed some more, gripping his hand with what little strength he had left. “Our family always... does its duty first. The darkspawn must be defeated, You must go, for your own sake and for Ferelden’s.”

Aedan was torn, he knew what he must do but every fiber in his being screamed he stay here and fight. In the end his head overcame his heart. “Then I will go father, for you.”

“We must leave quickly then,” Duncan said, offering Aedan his hand.

“Bryce, are you... are you sure?” Eleanor stammered.

“Our son will not die of Howe’s treachery, he will live and make his mark on the world.” Bryce managed one last smile before he fell limp on the floor.

Eleanor turned to Aedan. “Darling, go with Duncan, you have a better chance to escape without me.”

“Eleanor!” Bryce mumbled.

“Hush Bryce. I’ll kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy us some time, but I won’t abandon you.”

Aedan nodded and embraced his parents for the last time before letting Duncan lead him out of the castle. He was about to meet his fate.


	2. Perseverance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter one finds Aedan at Ostagar, however unwilling, and determined to vent his frustrations somewhere. Anywhere. All cannon belongs to Bioware.

# Chapter One: Perseverance

The journey to Ostagar was long and uneventful, even though they were traveling by wagon. Thankfully Duncan was willing to make conversation. “We will be traveling south, through the Hinterlands, to the ruins of Ostagar, on the edges of the Kocari Wilds.”

“That’s a strategic move,” Aedan nodded in approval. “Didn’t that used to be an old fort back in the age of the Magisters?”

Duncan nodded. “Yes, the Tevinter Imperium built Ostagar long ago to prevent the wilders from invading the lowlands. It’s fitting we make our final stand here, even if we face a different foe within that forest.” 

The wagon rolled from side to side and Duncan looked out at the wide expanse of the rocky, grassy Hinterlands, a grim expression crossing his dark features as he continued. “The King’s forces have clashed with darkspawn several times, but here is where the bulk of the horde will show itself. There are only a few Grey Wardens in Ferelden for the moment, but all of us are here. This Blight must be stopped, here and now. If it spreads to the north Ferelden will fall.”

Aedan watched as the older man explained and began to feel his heart grow heavy. This was real, and even though he had recently experienced a great loss at the death of his family, he knew a threat when he saw one. If they didn’t get on with fighting these things, more families would suffer as he was suffering. The idea was not a pleasant one.

A few days later they had finally arrived at their destination. Duncan thanked the driver and briskly made his way up the stairs and onto the ramparts of Ostagar, Aedan shadowing his every step, apparently the Grey Warden was in a hurry. Once they had reached the top, Duncan stopped suddenly and Aedan had to swerve out of the way not to run right into his back. Standing before them was King Cailan of Ferelden. Aedan immediately knelt and bowed his head, as was custom. “My King.” Duncan also knelt.

“Ho there, Duncan!” Cailan exclaimed, ushering them to their feet and extended an arm to Duncan.

Duncan, taken by surprise, took his hand, bewildered. “King Cailan! I didn’t expect - ”

“A royal welcome?” The king beamed. Obviously he was quite fond of the older man, given the warm reception. “I was beginning to think you were going to miss all the fun.”

“Not if I could help it, Your Majesty.” Duncan replied grimly.

Seaming to not noticed his tone, Cailan continued to smile. “Then I’ll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all. Glorious!” He looked over them both and for the first time seemed to realise Duncan had a companion. “The other wardens told me you found another promising recruit, I take it this is he?”

Duncan nodded. “Allow me to introduce you, Your Majesty.”

Cailan waved him off. “No need, Duncan. You are Bryce Cousland’s youngest, are you not? I don’t think we’ve actually met.” The King looked him up and down, nodding and mumbling something to himself.

Aedan rose to his feet and nodded, a fire in his eyes. “Yes I am and I bring important news, Your Majesty.”

Cailan frowned. “Is it about your father? Your brother has been concerned about him.”

Aedan swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to keep his voice even. “He is not coming. He died while our castle was under siege.”

Cailan’s eyebrows rose in shock. “Dead?! What do you mean?” He turned to Duncan for confirmation. “Duncan, do you know anything about this?”

Duncan nodded gravely. “Teyrn Cousland and his wife are dead, Your Majesty. Arl Howe has sown himself a traitor and overtaken Highever Castle. Had we not escaped he would have killed us and told you any story he wished.”

Cailan’s eyes widened, and turned around and leaned on the stone walls, deep in thought. “I... I can scarcely believe it!” After a moment he turned around again and said incredulously, more to himself, “Well how did he think he could get away with such treachery?” Next he looked Aedan in the eye and said, “As soon as we are done here, I will turn my army around and head north and bring Howe to justice. You have my word.”

Aedan knew what he should say in response, but instead of a polite thank you, he heard, “What kind of justice?” roll rebelliously off his lips.

Duncan watched Aedan carefully, but Cailan seemed to understand the younger mans distress. He drew his blond brows together and said angrily, “He will hang. I know it will not bring your family back, but Howe will not profit from this.”

This seemed to satisfy Aedan a little. His next thought was of Fergus, he needed to know what had transpired over the course of this week. His thoughts must have been written all over his face, for the next think the king said was, “No doubt you wish to see your brother, but unfortunately he and his men are scouting in the wilds.”

“When will he return?” Aedan said, his tone urgent.

“Not until the battle is over, I fear. Until then we cannot even send word. I apologize, but there is nothing I can do.” The king noticed his tone but chose to ignore it for the moment. He knew that grief came to everyone. “All I can suggest is that you vent your frustrations out on the darkspawn for the time being.”

Aedan finally understood, this would have satisfy him for the moment. “As long as Howe pays, I’m happy.”

Cailan nodded, then turned his attention to Duncan. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I must return to my tent. Loghain awaits eagerly to bore me with his strategies.”

“Your uncle sends his greetings and reminds you that Recliffe’s forces could be here in less than a week.” Duncan said, trying to smooth things a little.

“Ha! Eamon just wants in on the glory! We’ve won three battles against these monsters and tomorrow shall be no different.” Cailan boasted, now back to his smiling self.

“I didn’t realize things were going so well.” Aedan added, head cocked to the side.

“I’m not even sure this is a true Blight.” Cailan said with a slight frown. “There are plenty of darkspawn on the field, but, alas, we’ve seen no sign of an Archdemon.”

Duncan chuckled. “Disappointed, Your Majesty?”

Cailan smiled wryly. “I’d hoped for a war like in the tales. A king riding into battle with the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted God. But I suppose this will have to do.” He gave them a quick nod before turning on his heel. “Well I must go before Loghain sends out a search party. Farewell, Grey Wardens.”

As he left, Duncan guided them to a lower walkway that led to a large stone bridge. He turned to Aedan as he walked and said, “What the King said was true, they’ve won several battles against the darkspawn here.”

“Yet you don’t sound very reassured.” Aedan replied, adjusting his sword at his side and shifting the weight of his shield.

Duncan nodded. “Despite the victory so far, the darkspawn horde grows faster by each passing day. By now they look to outnumber us. I know there is an Archdemon behind this, but I cannot ask the King to act solely on my feeling.” 

Aedan frowned. That was not good news. “What would you have him do?”

“Wait for reinforcements. We sent a call out west to the wardens of Orlais, but it will be many days before they can join us. Our numbers in Ferelden are too few.” He sighed as they reached the stone bridge, then stopped. “We must do what we can and look to Teryn Loghain to make up the difference. To that end we should proceed to the Joining ritual without delay.”

“What do you mean? What ritual?” This had never been mentioned before his conscription. It seemed rather ominous, and not something Aedan needed sprung on him at the last moment. 

Duncan had anticipated this however, and explained calmly, “Every recruit must go through a secret ritual we call the Joining, in order to become a Grey Warden. The ritual is brief, but some preparation is required. We must begin soon.”

“I need to find Fergus.”Aedan argued.

“You heard what the King said, he is scouting in the Wilds and beyond contact. Be patient, he will return.” Duncan urged. He didn’t want to force the young Cousland but he knew it might have to happen.

“Why is the ritual so secret?” Aedan asked, not liking this one bit.

“The Joining is dangerous. I cannot speak more of it except to say you will learn all in good time. Until then, you must trust that what is done is necessary.” Duncan finished.

Aedan recognized a stone wall when he saw one. He knew he would get no more information so instead he tried asking more relative questions. “Am I the only recruit you have?”

“No, there are two other recruits here already. They have been waiting for us to arrive.” He replied, motioning for Aedan to cross the bridge with him.

“What do you want me to do?” Aedan asked.

“Feel free to explore the camp here as you wish. All I ask is that you do not leave it for the time being.” Duncan began as they made their way across. He nodded at the guardsman at the end of the bridge before continuing. “There is another Grey Warden in the camp by the name of Alistair. When you are ready, seek him out and tell him it’s time to summon the other recruits.”

He then glanced down at Jovey, who had been silent this entire time. “Your hound can stay with me while I attend to some business. The Grey Warden tent is on the other side of this bridge, you will find us there, should you need to.”

With that, he turned and walked off to another direction, Jovey following happily behind. Aedan decided to find Alistair and get the ritual done. When he found Alistair, he appeared to be arguing with a mage and Aedan decided he wasn't going to get involved, so he stood back and waited until they stopped fighting.

"Out of my way fool!" the mage said as he slammed into Aedan’s shoulder. Since he had trained and sparred with bulky tutors most of his life, he had a somewhat solid stature, so when the mage walked into the young Cousland it was he who felt the impact. Aedan just stared at him while the mage regained his balance.

"You know, the one good thing about a Blight is how it brings people together," Alistair said as he walked over to Aedan. 

"Sorry, what?" Aedan said, chuckling at the flustered mage and meeting the blonde wardens’ gaze.

"Oh, nothing. Just trying to find a bright side to all this. Wait, we haven't met, have we? I don't suppose you happen to be another mage?" Alistair asked.

"No, we haven't met. You must be Alistair." Aedan replied, offering his hand.

Shaking hands, he replied, "You must be Duncan's new recruit. As the junior member of the order, I'll be accompanying you when you prepare for the Joining."

"My name is Aedan. Pleasure to meet you Alistair,” the young noble replied.

The warden stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Right. That was the name. So, I'm curious. Have you ever actually encountered darkspawn before?" Alistair looked him up and down, nodding at some thought he had.

"No, though I’ve heard plenty about them from Duncan on the journey here," Aedan replied, crossing his arms and looking irritated at getting the once over yet again.. 

Alistair smiled politely, noting his discomfort and said after a moment, "Right, well, when I fought my first one, I wasn't prepared for how monstrous it was. I can't say I'm looking forward to encountering another. Anyhow, whenever your ready, let's head back to Duncan. I imagine he's eager to get things started."

"Yes he mentioned I was to tell you it was time to get things rolling. Who are these other recruits?" Aedan asked, slightly curious. It never hurt to know one's allies.

"Daveth and Sir Jory are here in the camp. Obviously you haven’t met them yet.” Alistair said and stepped out in front of Aedan, leading the way.

“Not yet, no.” Aedan said shaking his head and falling into step beside Alistair.

“Well let’s fix that, shall we?” Alistair smirked.

They made their way up and around the encampment where they found both the knight, Sir Jory and his counterpart thief Daveth. After introductions were made they went to find Duncan, Alistair and Aedan followed suit. Duncan was standing beside a bonfire warming his hands when he noticed their arrival. He nodded in approval as the other conscripts joined him. "Good. You found Alistair. I'll assume you are ready to begin preparations? Assuming, of course, that you are quite finished rilling up mages, Alistair?" Duncan asked, looking at Alistair half amused.

"What can I say? The Revered Mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt, they should stick her in the army." Alistair muttered sarcastically.

"She forced you to sass the mages, did she? We can't afford to antagonise anyone, Alistair. We don't need to give anyone more ammunition against us." Duncan added. 

"Your right, Duncan. I apologise," was all Alistair could say.

"Now then, since your all here, we can begin. You four will be going into the Kocari Wilds to perform two tasks. The first is to obtain three vials of darkspawn blood, one for each recruit," Duncan said.

"And what is the second task?" Aedan asked. 

"There was once a Grey Warden archive in the Wilds, abandoned long ago when we could no longer afford to maintain such remote outposts.” Duncan explained. “It has recently come to our attention that some scrolls have been left behind, magically sealed to protect them. Alistair, I want you retrieve these scrolls if you can."

Alistair and Aedan nodded, mentally checking off their orders. "Find the archive and three vials of blood. Understood." Aedan noted.

Turning to Alistair, Duncan said, "Watch over you charges, Alistair. Return quickly, and safely." For a split second, Aedan thought he saw a look of fear or worry appear on Duncan's face. 

"We will," replied Alistair, his cheerful demeanour suddenly gone.

"Then may the Maker watch over your path. I shall see you when you return." Duncan said. With that they set out for the Kocari Wilds.

* * * * *

Once they were in the Wilds, the quartet were attacked by wolves and after they dispatched them, they cautiously made their way further in. They soon came across a wounded soldier who appeared to be dying. After patching his wounds, Aedan realised he wasn't as badly hurt as he first thought. He told them of the darkspawn that rose from the ground and attacked his scouting party. Upon hearing this information, Sir Jory started to panic. "Did you hear? An entire patrol of seasoned men killed by darkspawn?" he said, his nerve beginning to falter.

"Calm down, Sir Jory. We'll be fine, if we're careful." Alistair said, trying to reassure Jory, though Aedan could see it wasn't working.

"Those men were careful, and they were still overwhelmed!” The knight exclaimed. “How many darkspawn can the four of us slay? A dozen? A hundred? There's an entire army in these forests!"

"There are darkspawn about, but we're in no danger of running into the bulk of the horde." Alistair said in a confidant tone.

"How do you know? I'm not a coward, but this is foolish and reckless. We should go back." Jory said, looking between Daveth and Aedan for support.

"We'll just fight our way out of trouble. As long as we have each others’ backs everything will be alright." Aedan soothed, putting his hand on the knight’s shoulders, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

There was something in Aedan’s expression that seemed to calm him down. He grimaced but nodded his confirmation. "Very well, young Cousland, though I still don't relish the thought of encountering an army."

Alistair watched this exchange carefully. Aedan Cousland had a gift for leadership, and Alistair suspected he would go far in the wardens. He then focused on Sir Jory. "Know this; all Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn. Whatever their cunning, I guarantee they won't take us by surprise. That is why I'm here."

"You see, sir knight? We might die, but we'll be warned about it first." Daveth smirked, flicking a stray lock of hair from his eyes.

"That is... reassuring," was all Sir Jory said.

"That doesn't mean I am here to make this easy, however,” Alistair added, frowning at Daveth. “So let's get a move on." Aedan nodded and the foursome followed Alistair further in and it wasn’t long before they were set upon by the denizens of the forest. 

Sir Jory and Daveth took a step back nervously when they saw darkspawn for the first time. Aedan gripped his sword tighter, fighting the compulsion to vomit. They were a grizzly looking bunch, pale grey skin with ripped flesh and gleaming yellow teeth, wielding bows, knives and hammers.

Alistair, Jory and Daveth drew their swords, and Aedan lashed out as the first of them attacked. Swinging low, he sliced through it's leg, just below the knee, shielding himself from the black blood splatter. The creature let out a screech of pain as he brought his sword down on it's head, cleaving the skull in two. Aedan looked over to Alistair and saw him dispatch another of the darkspawn, Daveth firing an arrow into one that was creeping up on Alistair from behind. 

Aedan turned around and saw Jory standing there, frozen by fear. He could see darkspawn moving behind him, and Aedan yelled at him, but Jory didn't seem to hear. Aedan ran to where the knight was and pushed him out out of the way as a darkspawn swung its axe. As Aedan caught the blow with his shield, he brought the sword up and sliced across the middle of the creature, opening up it's stomach. It groaned and fell to its knees as its gizzards tumbled free. As it did so Aedan swung the sword across it's neck, slicing the head clean off.

Daveth had run to them and was helping Jory up when the last of the darkspawn came at Aedan for an attack. He was ready for it, bashing it with his shield, slamming it into the creatures face. Then Aedan stabbed it in the chest with all his might. He felt the tip of the blade exit the creatures back, heard the gurgle of blood as it died. Aedan bashed it once more to pull his should from its chest.

With the last of them dead, they took out the vials Duncan had given them and filled them with blood. "That's the three vials of blood done. Now we just have to find these scrolls." Aedan said, turning to Alistair.

"I've never seen anybody fight darkspawn like that before," Alistair said, with a look of disbelief. “Especially for the first time.”

"I just give it everything I’ve got, Warden. When you’re forced to watch your family get slaughtered, I guess you have a lot of rage to work through." Aedan said darkly, clenching his teeth hard.

Alistair stared at his charge sympathetically, his sky blue eyes softening a little then nodded. The other two stared dumbfounded at him, neither one wanting to ask questions. Finally Alistair found his voice. "Well, glad I'm not a darkspawn. Let's find these scrolls before nightfall.” 

The others all nodded in agreement. The group encountered a few more darkspawn, and they dispatched them just as quickly. They finally found the old warden outpost, it was in ruins, but they eventually found the chest. Alistair was confused to discover it empty.

"Well, well. What have we here?" They all turned, weapons raised at the sound of the sultry voice. Aedan watched as a woman, a mage by the looks of her, sauntered down to the group, a look of intrigue crossing her dark, beautiful features. "Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned?” She flicked intelligent amber eyes over each of them, sizing them up probably and her expression became serious. “Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey?" When she reached them she crossed her arms over her scantily covered chest and said impatiently,"What say you, hmm? Scavenger or intruder?" Her eyes held firmly on Aedan.

Aedan held her gaze, liking very much what he saw. Though he had only ever encountered a handful of mages, he knew enough to be wary of them. "First you tell me who you are and where you came from,” he replied.

"Your are the intruder here, so I believe the first question is mine." The mysterious woman replied, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Don't tell her anything.” Alistair said forcefully, grabbing Aedan’s shoulder. “She looks Chasind, and that means others may be near by." Alistair said.

"Oooh, you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?" She asked sarcastically, flashing him an intense glare.

"Yeess. Swooping is bad." Alistair replied, just as sarcastically.

Daveth watched them all, then suddenly gasped, realising what she was. "She's a Witch of the Wilds, she is! She'll turn us all into toads!" 

The woman merely rolled her eyes and said, "Witch of the Wilds? Such idle fancies, those legends. Have you no minds of your own?" Turning to Aedan, her tone altering seductively. "You there, tell me you name and I shall tell you mine. Let us be civilised.”

"You can call me Aedan," he said, watching her closely.

"And you may call me Morrigan, if you wish," she said, nodding in approval. "What were you looking for in the chest?"

Aedan crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. "Documents belonging to the Grey Wardens. I suggest you return them immediately."

Now she appeared annoyed. She rolled her eyes. "I will not, for 'twas not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish. I am not threatened." Morrigan replied smugly.

Aedan frowned. "Then if you didn't take them, who did?"

"T’was my mother, in fact." Morrigan replied, strolled further away from them and nearer to a dark scrub behind the chest.

"Can you take us to her?" Aedan asked.

This seemed to please her, for her captivating smile returned and Aedan found himself liking how she smiled. "There is a sensible request. I like you."

"I'd be careful. First it's 'I like you' then it's... ZAP! Frog time." Alistair warned, almost tauntingly.

"She'll put us all in a pot, she will. Just you watch!" Daveth worried aloud, clearly spooked. 

By now Aedan had grown tired of all this superstition. "We have more important things to worry about than one woman who may, or may not be a Witch of the Wilds! Get a hold of yourselves.”

Laughing, Morrigan said, "I like you a lot. Now, follow me if it pleases you." Watching her hips sway in front of him, the young Cousland decided he was definitely pleased to follow. After a short walk they came across a small hut where an elderly woman stood out the front. Morrigan’s mother, Aedan presumed.

"Greetings, Mother. I bring before you four Grey Wardens who..." Morrigan began.

"I see them, girl,” the elderly woman interrupted. She eyed them up and down with scrutiny before saying, “Mmm, much as I expected.”

"Are we to believe you expected us?" Alistair snorted.

"You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide... either way, one's a fool!" She cackled cryptically. 

“She's a witch, I tell you! We shouldn't be talking to her!" Daveth exclaimed, now really getting freaked out.

"Quiet, Daveth. If she's really a witch, do you want to make her mad?" Sir Jory said, shoving the rogue roughly.

"Now, there's a smart lad. Sadly irrelevant in the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides. Believe what you will," the old woman said. Turning to Aedan, she asked "And what of you? Do you possess a different viewpoint? Or do you believe as the others do?"

Aedan watched the woman carefully, feeling unnerved as she stared right back at him, her eyes seeming like endless obsidian depths. He wasn’t about to let her see how much she rattled him. "I believe you have something we need.”

The old woman shuffled away for a moment, opening a hidden compartment in a chest close to the hovel before handing them to him. "Yes, your treaties. And before you start barking, your precious seals wore off long ago. I have protected these."

"You.. oh, you protected them?" Alistair said, beginning to hurl accusations but stopped mid sentence when he processed what she’d said.

"Yes. And why not? Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight's threat is far greater then they realise," the old lady said.

"Thank you for returning them." Aedan replied, hand outstretched.

"Time for you to go then." Morrigan said impatiently, placing the aged parchment in his hands.

"Don't be ridiculous, girl. These are you guests!" the old lady scolded.

"Very well, then. I will show you out of the woods. Follow me," Morrigan said. Aedan turned around to thank the mysterious woman, but she had simply vanished. He shrugged and followed Alistair back to Ostagar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was shorter than I'd have liked but without too much regurgitation. Thank you to any of you who have continued to read from the prologue, the fact that this has been seen by an audience makes me feel just a little bit bolder.


	3. The Tower Of Ishal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duncan rejoins his warden brethren and Alistair and Aedan are left to light the tower. Will they make it in time? All cannon belongs to Bioware.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Into the action! Not really my forte but I did have help writing some of the scenes.

# Chapter Two: The Tower Of Ishal 

It didn’t take long to reach Duncan. Dusk had begun to set, making the flames of his bonfire easy to spot. Alistair handed the documents and vials of blood to him, then stood back at his side, the others following suit.

Duncan eyed the ancient parchment for a few moments, running his had along the rough texture and thumbed the string that bound the rolls together thoughtfully. “You have returned, I will assume you’ve been successful, Alistair?”

“Yes, Duncan.” Alistair replied, nodding. “However there was no shortage of the darkspawn. I hope our current forces are enough.”

Duncan’s face was solemn but he didn’t chose to comment. After a few more minuets he put the scrolls behind his back and held up one of the vials and said, “I’ve had the Circle of Magi preparing. With this blood you’ve collected we can begin the Joining immediately.”

Aedan shifted his weight uncomfortably, unsure to ask the question he was burning to know. In the end, he asked anyway. "Now will you tell us what this 'Joining' is?"

Duncan sighed, "I will not lie. Grey Wardens pay a heavy to become what we are. Fate may decree that you pay your price now, rather than later."

Jory and Daveth exchanged puzzled looks but understood once Aedan clarified. "You saying this ritual could kill us?" he asked.

Duncan held his gaze, unfaltering. "As could any darkspawn you might face in battle. You would not have been chosen, however, if I did not think you could survive."

Aedan thought this over, he didn’t have much more to lose if this Joining failed. It seemed Daveth agreed. "Let's go then. I'm anxious to see this Joining now."

"I agree. Let's have it done." Sir Jory said, though he didn’t look as confidant as he sounded.

"Then let us begin.” Duncan nodded, approving. He pointed off into the distance. “Alistair, take them to the old temple."

They followed the junior warden in silence and once they reached their destination Daveth and Jory started arguing. Jory was wishing he'd been warned about all the test. He had a wife in Highever, with a child on the way.

"At last we've come to the Joining. The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation.” Duncan reached for a large gemmed goblet that stood on a stone pillar. “So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint."

"We're going to drink he blood of those creatures?!" Sir Jory exclaimed, disgusted.

"As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you. This is the source of our power and our victory." Duncan replied.

"Those who survive the Joining, become immune to the taint. We can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the Archdemon." Alistair added.

"We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would?" Duncan said, bowing his head as if in prayer.

Alistair nodded and bowed his head also, closing his eyes. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and that one day we shall join you."

Daveth was the first to drink. Suddenly he grabbed his head, screaming in pain. His eyes turned white, and gripped his throat before falling to the ground. Dead.

"I am sorry, Daveth." Duncan said, moving to where Jory stood, mouth agape. "Sir Jory, step forward."

Finally getting his wits about him, Jory stepped back, drawing his sword "No.. I have a wife. A child! Had I known.."

"There is no turning back, Sir Jory," Duncan said, handing the goblet to Alistair and unsheathed his own sword.

"No! You ask too much! There is no glory in this!" Now panicking, Jory swung his sword at Duncan. Duncan must've anticipated this, because he was ready to parry the blow, bringing up a dagger in his other hand and stabbed Jory in the chest. 

"I am sorry Sir Jory." He truly looked sad, but only momentarily as he turned to Aedan. "But the Joining is not yet complete. You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good.” He held his hand out and Alistair gave him the goblet. He then extended it to Aedan and he brought the goblet to his lips and drank. The black liquid burned and bubbled as it went down and Aedan barely heard Duncan as he said, “From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden."

As Aedan swallowed the last drop, he was overcome with white hot pain all through his body. He saw a kaleidoscope of visions flicker in his minds eye; a dark ruin littered with corpses, a huge volcano erupting molten fire and then a hideous dragon with torn wings, screeching in torment, before passing out. When he awoke, Aedan's head hurt. He opened his eyes slowly to see a worried Duncan and Alistair kneeling over him. The young noble groaned and struggled to get to his feet, stumbling briefly before the older warden reefed him up by his forearms. "It is finished. Welcome." Duncan said, smiling in obvious relief.

"Two more deaths. At my Joining, only one of us died, but it was... horrible. I'm glad at least one of you made it through." Alistair said, patting him on the back.

"How do you feel?" Duncan asked, his dark brown eyes searching for any signs of… something.

"The pain... that was unbelievable!" Aedan said, rubbing his temples in circles. “Did you both experience that? The visions too?”

"Such is what it takes to become a Grey Warden," Duncan nodded, expression solemn.

"Did you have dreams? I had terrible dreams after my joining," Alistair added, picking up the goblet and handing it to Duncan. He spared a sympathetic glance and silent prayer for Sir Jory and Daveth.

"Such dreams come when you begin to sense the darkspawn, as we all do. That and many other thing can be explained in the months to come," Duncan said, giving Alistair a reprimanding glare.

Alistair flushed pink. He realised that he'd probably said too much too soon. It was a jumble for him at first too. So much to process in one sitting. "Before I forget, there is one last part to the Joining. We take some of that blood and put it in a pendant. To remind us of those who didn't make it this far." The older recruit handed Aedan a silver chain attached to a round pendant, and within a black substance similar to tar – the Archdemon's blood. Aedan looked a little queasy as he accepted the gift and put it over his head. 

Duncan put a hand on Aedan's shoulder and said, "Take some time. When you are ready, I would like you to accompany me to a meeting with the king." Aedan nodded and followed him to the meeting. There he saw King Cailan and Loghain standing next to a table covered with maps. They appeared to be arguing.

"Loghain, my decision is final! I will stand by the Grey Wardens in this assault." Cailan said, red faced as he slammed his fists down on the table, sending the markers and scrolls flying.

"You risk too much, Cailan! The darkspawn horde is far too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front lines!" Loghain replied vehemently.

"If that's the case, then perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian forces to join us, after all." Cailan bit back, thoroughly irritated.

"I must repeat my protest to you fool notion that we need the Orlesian’s to defend ourselves!” Loghain spat, clearly exasperated.

"It is not a fool notion. Our arguments with the Orlesian's are a thing of the past... and you will remember who is king." Cailan replied, clearly implying this to be the end of the matter.

Shaking his head in disgust, Loghain refused to let the matter rest. "How fortunate Maric didn't live to see his only son ready to hand Ferelden over to those enslaved us for a century!"

"Then our current forces will have to suffice, won't they?" Cailan replied stubbornly. It was then that Duncan and Aedan got to the table. "Duncan, are your men ready for battle?" Cailan asked, eager for a change of subject.

"They are, Your Majesty." Duncan nodded, looking both at the King and the regent with cautious eyes. "Have you and Loghain devised a strategy for the coming battle, You Majesty?" he asked delicately.

Turning to the regent, Cailan said, still irked, "Loghain? The Grey Wardens and I draw the darkspawn into charging our lines and then...?"

Sizing Duncan's two recruits with a calculating expression, Loghain answered. "You will alert the tower to light the beacon, signalling my men and I to charge from cover." There was something in that look that put Aedan on edge. Instinctively he gripped the hilt of his sword and squeezed. The action did not escape the regents piercing gaze.

"To flank the darkspawn, I remember." Pointing to the map, Cailan added, "This is the Tower of Ishal in the ruins, yes? Who shall light this beacon?" 

It was then that Loghain took his eyes off Aedan and Alistair, turning to Cailan. "I have a few men stationed there. It's not a dangerous task, but it is vital," he said.

"Then we should send our best. Send Alistair and the new Grey Warden to make sure it's done." Cailan replied. Loghain opened his mouth to object, but instead said only, "As you wish, Your Majesty." He didn't even try to hide his contempt.

Whether the King noticed or not, he chose to ignore the regents scorn and said brightly instead, "It's settled then. The two Wardens will light the beacon. While Duncan and I, along with the rest of the wardens fight on the front lines. A glorious moment! The Grey Wardens battle beside the King of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil!"

As Loghain walked away from the table he muttered, "Yes, Cailan. A glorious moment for us all."

* * * * *

A few hours later, after the feast had been eaten and the weapons sharpened, Duncan summoned Aedan and Alistair for one last talk before the battle, to go over what had been discussed. He sighed deeply before looking them both in the eye. "You heard the plan, you and Alistair will go to the Tower of Ishal and ensure the beacon is lit."

An indignant gasp came from Alistair. "What? I won't be in the battle?!"

Duncan's brows knitted together as he stared the younger man down. "This is by the King's personal request, Alistair. If the beacon is not lit, Teyrn Loghain's men won't know when to charge."

"So he needs two Grey Wardens up there holding a torch, just in case, right?" Alistair said sarcastically, glaring into the fire. 

Aedan was inclined to agree with him and nodded. "I agree with Alistair. We should be down there on the front line, not helping Loghain's men light a torch!" The newest warden crossed his arms and scowled.

Duncan sighed again and shook his head. "That is not your choice. If the King wishes Grey Wardens ensure the beacon is lit, then Grey Wardens will be there. We must do whatever it takes to destroy the darkspawn, exciting or no."

There was a long silence and then another heavy sigh. "I get it, I get it. Just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no." Alistair said, half seriously.

Aedan stared at him incredulously. He was seriously going to just accept this? "Way to take a stand, Alistair." 

"I'll have you know, I look quite fetching in a dress," he replied mischievously, ignoring Aedan's rolling eyes.

Aedan then glared at Duncan some more. “I must find Fergus before it's too late. He never showed up after the scouts returned.”

Duncan sighed, exasperated. "That is beyond your control now. I am sorry, this cannot be easy for you to accept, but accept you must. We are on the precipice of war.” Aedan was about to argue but there was something about the way Duncan was looking at him that made him finally see the severity of the situation. He did not agree, but right now he had no other option. He said a silent prayer that his brother would be safe until Aedan could find a way to search properly for him.

Duncan seemed to sense the change in the young noble and nodded in satisfaction. “The tower is on the other side of the gorge from the king's camp, the way we came when we arrived. The two of you will need to cross the gorge and head through the gate and up to the tower entrance. From the top, you'll overlook the entire valley."

"When will we know to light the beacon?" Aedan asked tightly.

"We will signal you when the time is right. Alistair will know what to look for." Duncan glanced over at the younger man and smiled when he nodded in response. For all his practical jokes and laid back attitude in such dire times, it was becoming quite obvious that Duncan was quite fond of Alistair.

Aedan shifted the weight of his shield and adjusted his sword belt, eager to get going. "I know what we have to do, might we go now?" He asked.

Duncan breathed deeply and nodded. "Then I must join the others. From here, you two are on your own. Remember, you are both Grey Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that title."

Alistair, knowing this could end either very badly or very well, (he was hoping for the latter), said very seriously, "Duncan... may the Maker watch over you.” After all, he too was very fond of the older man.

"May He watch over us all," Duncan added, putting a hand on Alistair’s shoulder and giving it a quick firm squeeze. Next he turned to Aedan and nodded his farewell. “All that matter's is stopping the Blight." Duncan said. With one final solemn glance, the veteran warden turned and backtracked to Cailan and the rest of the wardens. 

Alistair and Aedan exchanged serious looks before making a run for the bridge, adrenaline pumping. When they arrived, the two young wardens gasped at the sheer magnitude of the darkspawn army. They looked more like a thick swarm, an angry sea of black, vicious monsters armed to the teeth with axes, daggers, swords, siege engines and all manner of other weapons. Upon closer inspection, the wardens were disheartened to see that the darkspawn catapults had already done significant damage to the bridge, bodies and parts of the ballista’s lay everywhere. 

Aedan turned to Alistair and pointed to the other side of the bridge. "The tower is just there! We need to cross this bridge, quickly!" he shouted. They ran as fast and hard as they could, dodging lit arrows and catapult debris. 

After they made it across, a mage and tower guard were running down the stairs of the tower, shouting. "Maker, help us! They're everywhere!" Turning to the approaching wardens, he said, "You... you're Grey Wardens aren't you? The tower... it's been over run! The darkspawn are everywhere!"

Alistair's heart plumented. "What do you mean taken? Taken how?" he demanded.

"They came up through the lower chambers! Most of our men are dead!" the guard replied.

"Then we have to get to the beacon and light it ourselves!" Alistair growled. Aedan looked to him and nodded in agreement. They made their way to the tower entrance, carving a path through any darkspawn stupid enough to get in their way. Aedan spied a darkspawn standing at the tower entrance. It looked like a mage. 

Aedan remembered Duncan telling him about the different darkspawn types during their long journey to Ostagar. The shorter ones he called genlocks, the taller ones were hurlocks. Then there was a hurlock emissary, capable of casting spells and using magic. The biggest darkspawn Duncan had seen was something called an ogre.

While Alistair and the others continued to fight the last remaining darkspawn at the bottom of the steps, Aedan charged after the emissary. Letting the rage inside take over, he cut through two genlocks that stood in front of the emissary. As they fell to pieces, the emissary tried to cast a spell. As he made the last few steps towards it, Aedan brought his sword down on it's left arm, slicing it clean off. With a screech of pain, it took a few steps back, before turning and trying to open the door. 

Aedan raised his sword and brought it down diagonally across the emissary's torso, slicing through its chest. As it fell to the ground, Alistair and the others ran to where Aedan was. He looked down at the remains, and kicked them down the stairs. Looking at Alistair he breathed, "Shall we go in?"

They fought their way through the first three floors, killing every darkspawn they saw. When the quartet reached the stairs leading to the fourth floor, a group of darkspawn were mauling the bodies of dead tower guards. Something inside Aedan snapped. Without another thought, he charged forward and attacked the darkspawn closest to him. 

It turned and saw him, bringing it's own blood soaked sword up. As it brought its sword down, Aedan raised his shield to deflect the blow. The sword hit his shield and grinded down on the steel buckler, but the force of the blow knocked Aedan’s shield out of his hand. The genlock didn't hesitate, swinging the sword at him again. With each blow Aedan was forced back down the stairs, knocking over a hurlock in the process. 

As the hurlock fell to the ground, the genlock that had been attacking him tripped over it, dropping it's sword. Aedan threw his shield and picked up the discarded sword and went on the offensive again, this time slashing with both swords. The first strike caught the genlock across the shoulder, almost severing the arm. He used the second sword to stab the hurlock that the warden knocked over. The genlock turned and ran to the top of the staircase, and in doing so, tore it's own arm off.

Aedan looked around and saw Alistair and the others still fighting the creatures, so he dropped the darkspawn blade and picked up his shield. He bolted up the staircase, killing the dying creatures he stepped over. The one-armed genlock was frantically trying to open the door, but kept slipping on it's own blood. When it realised Aedan was standing behind it, the genlock turned to face him. 

Aedan don't know if these things felt fear, but this thing had some expression on its disgusting face. Under different circumstances, Aedan may have felt pity. By this stage, Alistair and the others had finished off the darkspawn they'd been fighting, and had followed Aedan up the stairs. He thrust his sword into the genlock's stomach as hard as he could. 

As he tried to withdraw his sword, Aedan realised it was stuck. He tried to dislodge it a few times, before he kicked the genlock corpse hard against the door, breaking it open and dislodging the sword from the creatures body. The wardens stepped over the corpse and proceeded forward.

The foursome was not prepared for what they saw. Aedan thought the scene on the staircase was horrifying, he was wrong. Standing there, in the centre of the top floor of the tower, was a massive creature. He realised this must have been what Duncan had referred to as an ogre. 

In its massive hands, the ogre held two tower guards, while it chewed on another. Upon seeing the intruders, the ogre shoved the two tower guards in its mouth, revelling in the terrified screams of its victims and wiped the blood from its chin before bowing its great horned head and charged. The tower guard, Alistair and Aedan snapped out of their disturbed state and dived out of the way as instinct and adrenaline took over, narrowly avoiding be crushed by it's feet. The mage, however, was not so fortunate. 

The ogre gored the mage with its left horn, impaling him swiftly, then hurling the unfourtunate mage flying against the wall, his broken body sliding down against the stone wall, a splatter of red trickling behind him. By some miracle the mage managed to rise and later, both Aedan and Alistair would honor his courage. The pitiless ogre picked him up, and squeezed. When the ogre opened it's hand, the mage was nothing more than a blood smear on its palm. 

It all happened so fast, they had barely gotten to their feet when the ogre charged again. This time though, the tower guard charged as well. As the ogre got close however, the tower guard brought his sword up and slashed across the darkspawn's leg. With a growl of pain, it's swung its titanic fist again, knocking the tower guard down. It brought its fist up, and then slammed down on the guards legs, crushing both limbs. 

Alistair and Aedan moved in for the attack, ducking those massive fists, and stabbing and slashing when they saw an opening. Maybe it was the pain, or maybe it was the blood loss, but the ogre seemed to be weakening. Staggering back, it swung its fist again, this time at Alistair. He must've seen it coming, because the warden raised his shield. It didn't help much, the blow still knocked him against the wall, but the shield took the brunt of the impact, which probably saved his life.

Just then Aedan heard a voice call out, "Warden! Here, catch!"

The tower guard was still alive, barely. He threw his sword to him, then fell still. Maker preserve you, Aedan thought. With his final act, Aedan had the means to kill this tyrannical ogre. He dropped his shield so he could catch the guard’s sword. As he did so, Aedan ran towards the ogre. Using pieces of debris, he launched himself into the air, stabbing the darkspawn with both blades as he landed. Using the twin swords, Aedan stabbed his way up the creature’s chest until it collapsed on the floor. Kneeling on it's chest, he slammed both blades into the ogre's neck. With all the rage held in his heart, the newest warden kept stabbing, slicing until the ogre's head rolled from the body. Covered in blood, he withdrew his sword, and went to check on Alistair. He was alive, dazed, but alive.

"We need to light this beacon!" Aedan yelled, blood pounding in his ears, chest heaving with exertion, shaking him lightly. Nodding, Alistair got to his feet. They each grabbed a piece of burning debris, and threw it into the fireplace. Suddenly Aedan felt a searing pain in his shoulder and the last thing he saw before blacking out was an arrow sinking straight through, then hit by a second arrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone still reading from the prologue, I am grateful. Please feel free to comment on anything you think might need work or if there was something in particular you liked, it's all helpful :D


	4. Help In Unusual Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aedan and his companions arrive at Lothering and decide what direction to take next. For a little town it sure does have some colorful citizens. All cannon belongs to Bioware.

# Chapter Three: Help In Unusual Places

Aedan slowly opened his eyes, feeling groggy and sore all down his right side. He rubbed his eyes and waited for everything to come back into focus. It was then he realised he was lying in a bed of straw, not uncomfortable, but enough to irritate his wounds. Aedan slowly sat up, and that’s when he realised he was not alone. Morrigan, the beautiful yet feisty sorceress he met earlier in the wilds, was standing at the end of the bed, her penetrating amber gaze watching him shrewdly.

She leaned into the doorway and said quietly. "Ah, your eyes finally open. Mother will be pleased."

Aedan clutched his right arm, massaging the aching muscle. "What happened?”

"You were injured, and then Mother rescued you. Do you not remember?" Morrigan replied, taking a step closer to the bed.

Aedan closed his eyes for a second. He vaguely recalled being lifted in the air by what look like... a dragon? as he drifted in and out of consciousness. No, that was absurd, he was probably delirious. Aedan frowned and said, “There was darkspawn everywhere, then I woke up here," he replied, feeling dizzy and somewhat confused.

Aedan tried to collect his thoughts into a stream of coherency, everything was hazy. "Wait.. what happened in the battle? What happened to King Cailan and the Grey Wardens?" 

Morrigan looked away for a moment, unsure of how best to reply. She was not a sensitive woman. "The man who was to respond to your signal, quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle."

Slowly, Aedan’s fists curled and shook at his sides, a gesture that did not escape the raven haired woman. Loghain, that bastard! Aedan thought to himself. He made a mental note of adding him to his shit list, right below Arl Howe.

Morrigan watched the play-by-play of emotions overlap the young nobles face with interest, continuing. "Those he abandoned were massacred. Your friend... he is not taking it well."

Aedan's eyes bulged in shock. "Alistair? He's alive?" He'd assumed that it was he she was referring to, grateful that he was not the only survivor.

"The suspicious, dim-witted one who was with you before? Yes he is alive," Morrigan answered wryly, clearly not approving of his survival. "He is outside by the fire. Mother asked to see you when you awoke."

Aedan nodded, rising from the bed. It was then he noticed he was naked from the waist up. He reached for the tunic that slung over the foot of the bed. He noticed the enchantress’ eyes linger on his toned muscles longer than was necessary, and carefully hid a smirk of pride. It seemed the attraction was mutual. He dressed, careful not to further injure himself and stepped outside, holding the door for Morrigan. She glanced over his bulky frame one last time before heading toward the camp fire, standing beside her mother.

Alistair was waiting outside, looking forlorn out over the lake. Morrigan's mother looked up to see Aedan limping a little out of the hut. Scoffing at him, she said, "See? Here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, young man."

Jovey came bounding over from beside Alistair and licked his masters’ hand and nudged his legs affectionately. “Hey there boy, I’m alright.” The hound barked happily and trotted alongside him.

Alistair turned around slowly, watching Aedan stumble a little, barely able to believe his eyes. "You... you're alive! I thought you were dead for sure." The blonde man started to walk forward, relief softening his features.

Aedan glanced over at the old woman warily, then back at his fellow warden before replying, "It takes more than a few darkspawn to kill me, Alistair."

"A few darkspawn?! We were completely overrun! If it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we would've died on top of that tower!" Alistair exclaimed, jaw agape as he eyed the old woman with equal parts fear and awe.

"Do not talk about me as if I am not present, lad." Morrigan's mother said in annoyance, adding another log to the fire and warming her hands against the bright flames.

Alistair blushed a little. "I didn't mean... but what do we call you? You never told us your name."

Morrigan looked him up and down, satisfied with the chastising and turned to her mother who replied, "Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasind folk called me Flemeth, I suppose that will do.”

"The Flemeth? Of the legends? Daveth was right! You're the Witch of the Wilds, aren't you?" Alistair replied, stunned.

“And what does that mean? I know a bit of magic, and it has served you both well, has it not?" Flemeth replied, jabbing him roughly in the ribs, clearly irritated.

Aedan watched, amused, as Alistair dug an even bigger hole as he tried to apologise, to no avail. The novelty wore thin though. He grew impatient as he began to realise how little he knew about their current situation. "Who cares who she is! The King is dead, along with all the Grey Wardens, thanks to Loghain, and only the Maker knows if Fergus is alive! We need to do something now!"

Alistair stopped his fumbling attempt at an apology and thought about this for a few seconds. "That doesn't make any sense! Why would he do that?"

Flemeth turned to Aedan and nodded in approval. "Now that is a good question. Men's hearts hold shadows darker then any tainted creature. Perhaps he believes the Blight is an army he can outmanoeuvre? Perhaps he does not see that the evil behind it is the true threat."

"The Archdemon." Alistair said darkly, all traces confusion bereft of his face.

"Then we need to find this Archdemon, and kill it!" Aedan replied, equally serious.

Alistair took a deep breath then turned to his companion. "No Grey Warden has ever defeated a Blight without the army of a half-dozen nations at his back. Not to mention, I don't know how."

"How to kill the Archdemon? Or how to raise an army?” Flemeth interjected. “It seems to me, those are two different questions, hmm? Have the Wardens no allies these days?" The old woman seemed to know something they did not, and the calculating stare she gave Aedan only confirmed his suspicions.

“I... I don't know. Duncan said that the Grey Wardens of Orlais had been called. And Arl Eamon would never stand for this, surely." Alistair replied, his thoughts trailing off in another direction.

"Arl Eamon? The Arl of Redcliffe? You think he would believe us over that son of a bitch Loghain?" Aedan asked angrily, not following.

"I suppose... Arl Eamon wasn't at Ostagar, he still has all his men. And he was Cailan's uncle. I know him. He's a good man, respected at the Landsmeet. Of course! We could go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help!" Alistair said slowly, finally connecting the dots.

Aedan thought about this for a second. "What about the treaties? Can we use them to build an army?"

"Of course! The treaties! Grey Wardens can demand aid from dwarves, elves, mages and other places! They're obligated to aid us during a Blight!" Alistair exclaimed excitedly.

"I may be old, but dwarves, elves, mages, this, Arl Eamon, and who knows what else, this sounds like an army to me." Flemeth said, pleased.

"So can we do this? Go to Redcliffe and these other places, and build an army?" Alistair asked, the corners of his mouth beginning to turn upwards.

Aedan nodded, feeling the confidence within rising. "Of course we can. We are Grey Wardens after all. They must honour the agreement, else perish in the darkspawn swarm. I know which option I’d chose.”

Alistair merely nodded. After a moment, Flemeth spoke. "So you are set, then? Ready to be Grey Wardens?"

Alistair and Aedan glanced at each other. "Yes, I guess we are. I offer my thanks for all your help, Flemeth." Aedan told her.

"No, no, thank you. You are the Grey Wardens here, not I.” She hobbled over to where Morrigan was stirring a broth over the fire. “Now, before you go, there is one more thing I have to offer you." Flemeth replied.

Morrigan looked up at her mother’s approach. "The stew is bubbling, Mother dear. Shall we have two guests for the eve, or none?" 

Turning to face her daughter, Flemeth replied, "The Grey Wardens are leaving shortly, and you will be joining them."

"Such a shame... wait, what?!" Morrigan replied with a scowl, shocked. 

Then she and Flemeth engaged in an argument, while Alistair and Aedan stood back, reluctant to get involved. As time was of the essence, Aedan was forced to intervene. "Thank you, Flemeth, but we must leave now if we are to reach Redcliffe. If Morrigan doesn't wish to join us, we will manage on our own."

Flemeth waved her hand dismissively. "Nonsense. You will need a guide to find your way out of the Wilds. Consider this repayment for your lives."

"Have I no say in this?" Morrigan demanded, outraged.

"They need you Morrigan. Without you, they will surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight. Even I." Flemeth answered gravely.

"I... understand," was Morrigan's reluctant reply.

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but won't this add to our problems?” Alistair asked cautiously, not meaning to offend. “Outside the Wilds, she's an apostate." Aedan thought this a fair question, not everyone they would meet would care about a Blight unless it was on their doorstep.

Flemeth gave him her full attention, paralysing him with her intense stare. "If you do not wish help from us illegal mages young man, perhaps I should've left you in that tower?” Alistair could say nothing, squirming under her hot scrutiny, merely nod meekly.

Flemeth then turned to Aedan, still seething. "And you Warden. I give you that which I value most in this world. I do this because you must succeed. Do you understand?"

Aedan also found himself feeling quite uncomfortable. For an old woman she was quite formidable. "I do. I understand, and I swear to you no harm will come to her while she travels with us." Aedan answered sincerely, looking from Flemeth to Morrigan.

Morrigan walked back into the hut to gather her belongings. When she returned she said, "I am at your disposal, Grey Wardens. I suggest a village north of the Wilds as our first destination. 'Tis not far and you will find much you need there.” She looked at both of them, letting them think it over before adding sarcastically, “Or if you prefer, I shall be your silent guide. The choice is yours."

Alistair shrugged his shoulders, letting Aedan take charge. The young Cousland smiled charmingly at her and said, “Thank you, Morrigan. That would be a fine place to start."

Morrigan fought to keep her expression indifferent, then turned to her mother and saying her goodbyes before taking one last glance at the swamp that was her home and led the way out of the bog.

* * * * *

It took only two days to reach the small village of Lothering, encountering only bandits at the end of the Imperial Highway. The smug gang made the mistake of trying to steal from them. As the last bandit fell, Aedan could see that these thieves had already attacked and killed anyone trying to enter Lothering without payment. After dealing with them, Alistair stopped and looked out at the village. "Well there it is. Lothering... pretty as a painting."

Morrigan couldn't resist. "Ah, so you have finally decided to rejoin us have you? Falling on your blade in grief seemed like too much trouble, I take it?"

Over the course of the days and nights they travelled, neither of Aedan’s companions had warmed to each other, and only the newest warden was keeping the fractured peace. Morrigan seeming to revel in Alistair’s grief. She toned it down a great deal when Aedan told her off for being disrespectful, however this had not completely deterred her. 

Alistair turned to face her. "Is my being upset so hard for you to understand? Have you ever lost someone close to you?” He searched her eyes, trying to find some speck of kindness there. Before she could answer he added, “Just what would you do if your mother died?” He and Aedan were both disturbed to see the corners of her mouth twitch. “Never mind, don't answer that."

Aedan stopped walking and sat down on the curb of the Imperial Highway, Jovey kneeling beside his master. "Something on your mind Alistair?" He asked, hoping to prevent the two of them from quarrelling further.

Alistair sat down beside them and sighed. "I.. well I thought we should talk about where we should go first," he replied.

Aedan nodded."Good idea. I was thinking we'll use the treaties. The Dalish elves that live in the Brecillian Forest are the closest, why not approach them first?"

Alistair thought this over, deciding it was a sound plan. "Alright, that makes sense. I would suggest going to see Arl Eamon at Redcliffe immediately after." He seemed somewhat relieved, and Aedan made a mental note to have a discussion about leadership once they were alone, after all he had no idea of what protocols were supposed to be followed.

"If you want to Alistair, go by the Chantry and see if anyone there can get word to the Arl. Tell him what happened at Ostagar, and that we'll be there to explain everything soon." Aedan said, hoping to let the man find some sort of comfort there.

He nodded, rising to his feet and replied, "Yes, I would like that. Maybe one of the templars can get a message to Redcliffe. What are you going to do?"

“We will wait until you are ready.” Aedan replied. Alistair seemed to understand his meaning and flashed him a grateful smile, the first real smile he’d seen since meeting him. He was gone for half an hour, and even though Aedan didn’t mind, he could tell Morrigan was working up a snide storm. 

He put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a warning look and she glared right back, but said nothing. Upon returning Alistair seemed to have a bit more purpose about him and Aedan was glad for it. A prayer or two for the departed was uplifting for the soul. Later, once they had a firmer grip of what was going on around them, Aedan would do the same. He tried pushing the sickening worry for Fergus aside, he had to focus on the task at hand. “Did you find a courier for your message?”

He smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled. "Yes. One of the templars is being transferred to the Chantry there, and agreed to relay the message for me." Alistair answered. He put an arm on the younger man’s shoulder and stopped him before he could take another step. “And, Aedan?”

“Yes?” he replied.

“Thank you.” Alistair smiled again and the young noble could see the respect beginning to form behind them. “I was once a templar myself, well an initiate anyway, and that was exactly what I needed.” Morrigan raised a single eyebrow, but he ignored her.

Aedan smiled back. "You’re welcome, Alistair. It seems like not much is happening here in the village, let’s make inquiries at the tavern. Perhaps the barkeep might know something the authorities do not?”

The three of them headed for Calenhad’s Rest, Lothering’s tavern. Inside everything appeared quite ordinary, aside from the numerous refugees littering the floors and stairwells. There were men drinking and women serving, the odd child servant passing food to the cooks from out the back and the barkeep polishing the counter. Aedan also noticed the group of armed soldiers wearing Loghain’s colours. He was hoping to be as discrete as possible, the last thing they needed was to draw unwanted attention.

Unfortunately for them, the men had spotted them first. The leader of the group strut over to where they stood and jeered. "Well, look what we have here. We have been blessed boys." 

One of his offsides piped up with, "Didn't we spend all morning asking about a man fitting this man's description? And everyone we spoke to said they hadn't seen him?"

“Yeah, how about that, boys?” The leader replied, stroking his scraggly beard.

"It seems we were lied to, Boss," one of the others replied.

Just then, a red haired woman sauntered up to the group and spoke quietly to Loghain's men. "Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble? These are no doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge."

The man was hell bent on a fight. He shoved the priestess across the room. "They're more then that. Now stay out of our way, Sister. You protect them, and you'll get the same as them!" The woman glared up at him but said nothing further.

The ringleader stepped closer to the three of them, obviously more than a little drunk by the smell of him. "I served at Ostagar, where the Teyrn saved us from the Grey Wardens treachery. I serve him gladly!” He swayed a little and smashed the pint he was drinking from against the chair that was beside him. “Now, enough talk. Take this warden into custody. Kill the Sister and anyone else that gets in our way."

"Right. Let's make this quick," one other lackey said. With that, it was on. 

Alistair and Aedan were ready for them, drawing their swords quickly and parrying their attackers. Morrigan backtracked to a corner and began to recite incantations. Aedan heard one of the soldiers began to scream as his face caught fire, and bolted in any random direction, clutching and clawing at his face, desperate to put out the flames.

This drove all bystanders hysterical, and rampaging around the wardens. They had to be extra careful not to hurt the townsfolk. Aedan blocked, slashed and parried another incoming swing and was finding it harder to manoeuvre, this was not an ideal fighting arena for a warrior. He was too busy trying to minimise damage and didn’t see two more soldiers attempting to flank him until they fell down dead beside him. He cleaved the soldier he was fighting and looked down to see two arrows, one in each head of each soldier at his feet. Looking up, he saw the so called ‘sister’ taking aim at another target attempting to corner Morrigan. He too fell down, dead.

Alistair called out to Aedan for backup, the leader of the soldiers was coming for them. He carried a great sword, big and heavy. They knew if it connected with their body, it would've sliced them in two. As he swung the sword, Alistair raised his shield ready to deflect the blow. As the leader staggered back, Alistair lashed out with his sword and sliced his arm open. Aedan had knocked a rogue man, attempting to provide support, down and was standing over him, sword raised.

Seeing that his fellow soldiers had fallen, the commander lowered his sword. "Alright! Alright, you've won. We surrender."

"Good. They've learned their lesson, and we can all stop fighting, now." The sister said.

"You’ll take a message to Loghain.” Aedan agreed, panting a little. “Tell him he'll pay for what he's done. Tell him we’re coming for him."

After he left the sister turned to the group. "I am Sister Leliana. Thank you for sparring those men their lives.”

Aedan glanced quickly at Morrigan when he heard her snort, disgusted. He nodded and sheathed his sword. “I didn't expect to see a member of the Chantry here, let alone see one fight as you do. Those are some handy skills you have there, Sister Leliana.” Aedan smiled, looking her over appreciatively. “I suspect you were not always a sister," he said, winking mischievously.

"And I did not suspect anyone to have survived the massacre at Ostagar. It would seem we are both full of surprises, no?" Leliana replied smoothly, careful not to reveal anything. Aedan knew there was more going on here and he found himself intrigued by the mystery shrouding the charming red head. 

Aedan laughed, amused by her obvious ploy. "Alright then, dear sister, why would a woman of the cloth be in such a sinful establishment? Not trying to preach to this rabble, surely?”

Leliana titled her head to the side slightly and looked him over, then to both Alistair and then Morrigan. “No, I am only a lay sister, and under qualified to preach. I was here looking for information also.”

“Information?” Alistair asked, realising also that something was amiss.

“Yes, I had heard that two Grey Wardens had survived and was going to offer my services. You will be battling the darkspawn, yes? That is what Grey Wardens do?” When Alistair nodded, she added, “I know that after what happened, you'll be needing all the help you can get. That is why I'm coming along."

Aedan and Alistair looked at each other, thinking it over. They glanced briefly at Morrigan who just rolled her eyes. Nodding, Aedan said, "You are correct on all accounts. We do need all the help we can get."

"Wonderful! The Maker told me to go with you, he has pointed me in the right direction once again." Leliana smiled softly, thumbing the feathers at the end of her arrowhead absently.

Aedan’s smiled faltered a bit. He didn’t know what he believed in, though he had grown up with a priest in the castle who preached about Andraste and the Maker. He was not about to judge others for their beliefs. "You are free to follow whatever you wish, sister, as long as you are committed to the cause. The Grey Wardens will not turn away help when it's offered.”

"Thank you, and I understand. Please call me Leliana, for I am a sister no longer," she replied. 

Aedan shook her hand. “Then welcome, Leliana.” He then proceeded to introduce her to Alistair and Morrigan. After finding out that Loghain had come through Lothering just recently and taken what remained of the city’s guard, Aedan realised that it would probably best to leave now. The Blight would soon swallow this little village and though he would prefer to stay and help, Aedan knew they did not have the numbers to fight it.

So the quartet left the tavern, and followed the dusty path that led out of Lothering and back onto the Imperial Highway. Just as they reached the farm hold outskirts, Morrigan noticed a cage, and was staring at the occupant, a very large occupant, with intense curiosity.

"What is it, Morrigan?" Alistair asked her, then followed her gaze and made an ‘oh’ expression.

"I have overheard in the tavern that this man has not moved in almost a day now. 'Tis very peculiar. I am merely anxious to see how long it takes before he will move," she replied, not taking her eyes off the tall figure.

"I will not amuse you any more than I have the other humans. Leave me in peace," the man in the cage retorted gruffly.

"My, he speaks. Wonders never cease." Morrigan sneered.

Ignoring her comment, Aedan turned back to the cage, craning his neck to make eye contact with the large man. "Are you a prisoner here? Who put you in there?" 

The tall bronzed man, indeed he was almost giant like, appeared to be annoyed. "I am in a cage, am I not? I've been placed here by the Chantry."

Leliana gasped. "This must be the man the Revered Mother spoke of. She said he murdered an entire family. Even the children."

"It is as she says. I am Sten, of the Beresaad. The vanguard of the Qunari peoples," the man replied gravely, his jaw tightening.

"I am Aedan Cousland, of the Grey Wardens, and I have never heard of your people, the Qunari." Aedan replied, folding his arms and looking him up and down thoughtfully.

"It matters not who you are, for I will die soon enough," Sten said dully, turning away and into the hills spread out before them.

Alistair leaned over to Aedan and said discretely, "Not to put too fine a point on it, but the Qunari are renowned warriors. If we could release him, perhaps he might help us?"

"I suggest you leave me to my fate," was all Sten said, seemingly resigned to this fact.

Aedan rubbed his chin, beginning to like the idea. "Well, we do need help, and if you are as skilled as my companion here seems to think, we may have use for you." Aedan told Sten, gauging his reaction.

This seemed to interest him slightly. The giant stirred. "No doubt. What help do you seek?"

"We are trying to raise an army, to rid the land of the Blight." Aedan answered.

"My people have heard legends of the Grey Wardens' strength and skill. Though I suppose not all legends are true." Sten replied, looking over Aedan and Alistair, clearly not impressed.

"Would you help us if we were to free you?" Alistair asked him, trying not to take offence.

"If the Revered Mother allowed it. Perhaps if you told her the Grey Wardens needed my assistance. It seems as likely to bring my death as waiting here." Sten said, a little hopeful, though he masked it well.

Aedan turned to Leliana. "Can you help us talk to the Revered Mother?" 

She nodded slowly, though he could tell she was not entirely comfortable with the idea. "To be left here to starve, or be taken by the darkspawn? No one deserves that, not even a murderer. I will speak to the Revered Mother."

Turning back to Sten, Aedan told him they would return shortly. He nodded and went back to staring out of the cage. They made their way over to the Chantry, where they found the Revered Mother, in what looked like a library. As they entered the room, she looked up and smiled. "Good day, Sister Leliana. I'm surprised to see you still in Lothering."

Leliana bowed her head graciously. "It is good to see you as well, your Reverence." From what he could see, Leliana was well liked and respected. Perhaps this would not be as difficult as he first thought?

The Revered Mother looked the three others over with interest before saying, "I do not recognise your companions. Greetings. Will you be making a donation to the Chantry? Our need has never been greater."

Aedan shook his head and said respectfully, "I wish I could, Your Grace, but I have nothing of value on my person. We ourselves are in need of aid."

The Revered Mother eyed him carefully. "What can I do for you, then?" she asked, suspiciously.

"You have a man, a Qunari, locked in a cage outside of town. I would ask you to release him." Aedan said, mustering up his charm.

She rose from her seat and paced across the room for a moment. "It might have been kinder to execute him, but I leave his fate to the Maker." She stop pacing and turned to him. "Why does he interest you?"

"I find myself in need of skilled men and women, to aid in stopping the Blight," he replied simply.

She frowned deeper. "Are you aware of the reason why he is locked in the cage? If I were to release him, who knows who his next victims may be?" she said.

"I was actually thinking you would release him into my custody." Aedan interjected smoothly, flashing her his most dazzling smile yet.

Her Grace seemed to consider this for a moment. She turned to Leliana, "And what do you say on this, Leliana? You know your friend better than I."

Leliana turned to Aedan for a few seconds before answering. "These are unusual times, your Reverence. With us, the Qunari may do some good. I am sure of it in fact."

With a sigh, the Reveared Mother said, "Were things not so desperate…" Then she turned to Aedan. "Very well, I trust you. Take these keys to his cage and Maker watch over you." Leliana thanked her and left the Chantry and they went back to Sten.

The Qunari was still standing, staring blankly out of his cage. Without looking at Aedan or Alistair, he asked, "You have returned. You wish something more of me?"

"Only your word, that if I release you from this cage, you will help me stop the Blight. After that, what you choose to do is not my business." Aedan replied, taking the key from Leliana.

The bronzed giant’s eyes widened slightly in what Aedan assumed was surprise. "I confess, I did not think the priestess would part with it. You have my word. Set me free and I shall I will follow you against the Blight." 

"Good. That is all I need." With that, he stepped forward and opened the cage.

Sten watched him closely as he did so. "And so it is done. I will follow you in to battle. In doing so, I shall find my atonement. May we proceed? I am eager to be elsewhere," he said, stepping out of the cage, stretching and rolling his broad shoulder blades in circles. Aedan nodded, handing Sten the great sword he took from the commander in the tavern.

"A fine blade, thank you." Sten said, inspecting the sword acutely before accepting the weapon. Sten fell into line behind Leliana without another word and they proceeded to their destination.

As they neared the road, they could hear the sounds of combat. Looking at Alistair, Aedan drew his sword and shield, seeing him do the same. He ran up the ramp, and saw two dwarves trying to protect their wagon from a group of hurlocks and genlocks. They were far from defenceless though, Aedan realised. Atop the wagon was a man with long black hair with slight streaks of grey tied back in a ponytail, armed with a crossbow. He was picking off the darkspawn that got too close to the wagon while another man, also with black hair, was raining down ice shards on the bigger group that was trying to flank them.

Aedan realised that even with all that fire-power, they would soon be overwhelmed. Without any further hesitation, Cousland led his companions into the fray.

"Get down, Sandal! Don't let 'em touch you!" The man with the crossbow yelled. As one hurlock went to attack the younger dwarf, the man with the crossbow jumped down and head butted the darkspawn, kicked it away and put two bolts into its chest. Before its sword and shield brethren could assist, Aedan threw his sword at it, impaling it through the chest. 

Another hurlock charged towards them while Aedan tried to retrieve his sword, only to be cut down by Alistair. As Aedan pulled his sword free, he swung his shield at a genlock, slicing through it's neck. With sword in hand, he turned to see Leliana and Morrigan kill more darkspawn.

The mage was pumping out some serious ice magic, as every incoming hurlock and genlock coming for him couldn’t get within twenty paces lest they be frozen on the spot. However the sniper hurlocks and emissaries where another dilemma entirely. “Tanner!” he called out.

The man with the ponytail whipped his head around and saw the situation. “Hold tight, Hawke, I’m on it!” Tanner kicked out at more of the darkspawn and launched a volley at the snipers overhead and ducked as a two-handed darkspawn attempted a horizontal swing at his head. The man punched it in the jaw and then smacked it in the face with the butt of his crossbow as it recoiled.

He was about to line up a shot at another sniper when he heard the man called Hawke call out, “The mage!”

Tanner realised too late what he meant. The emissary was almost finished its incantation for a fireball spell. He had seconds to roll out of the way when Sten lopped off its ugly head in one giant swing. “Thanks, big guy!” Tanner nodded and dodged another hurlocks attack, rolling out of the way and in the same movement, fired another two bolts, blood splattering over Sten’s tunic. The giant didn’t even seem to register, just kept swinging the great sword with skilled finesse, making one hell of a gory mess. “Damn mate!” Tanner exclaimed, laughing with delight as he watched Sten cut down the darkspawn like they were daisies.

With the last of the creatures dead, Aedan went to see if the dwarves were alright. The older one was shaking hands with the mage and the younger one was stacking crates. "Mighty timely arrival there, my friend. I'm much obliged," the older one said to Hawke. 

“I was just passing through friend, though I was glad to assist, though if it weren’t for Tanner and these fine people, I doubt we’d have survived.” Hawke stroked his thick jet beard as he looked the newcomers up and down with an appreciative smile.

Tanner slung the crossbow over his shoulders and clasped arms with the mage. And in his very thick Ferelden accent said, “Nah mate, you kicked some serious darkspawn arse back there. Take some credit.” 

Hawke only laughed. “I’m sure you won’t be saying that when you start bragging at the Pearl next week! You’ll be the hero I’m sure!”

Tanner laughed whole heartedly. “And landing all the pussy I can handle! Damn straight, mate!” The two friends laughed jovially. 

When the laughter subsided, Hawke reached out to shake Aedan and Alistair’s hand. “But seriously though, thanks for that back there. You saved our lives for sure. What is your name?”

Aedan introduced himself and his companions and the fact that they were Grey Wardens. “We’re headed to the Brecillian Forest. Glad to help you out.” Aedan noticed Hawke and Tanner exchange concerned glances, wondering only briefly what it was all about.

As they were checking their blades and armor before departing, the older dwarf strolled up to Aedan and Alistair and extended his hand, introducing himself. "The name's Bodahn Feddic, merchant and entrepreneur. And this here is my son, Sandal. Say hello, my boy," Bodahn said with an encouraging smile.

"Hello." Sandal said, obviously the boy was simple.

"Roads been mighty dangerous these days. Mind if I ask what brings you out here? Perhaps we're going the same way?" Bodahn asked.

Aedan nodded. "Certainly. I am a Grey Warden, and with my companions, we're going to stop the Blight."

Bodahn frowned. "Grey Wardens, hmm? My, that does rather explain a lot. No offence, but I suspect there's more excitement than my boy and I can handle.” The merchant chuckled saying, “Allow me to bid you farewell and good fortune though," He turned to Sandal. "Now, then. Let's get this mess cleaned up, shall we?" With one last smile and handshake with Hawke and Tanner the dwarves turned on their heel. “Many thanks, my friends.”

"Goodbye," Sandal said, waving a bit over-enthusiastically. They then went to work cleaning up the bodies of the darkspawn and dead villagers. Aedan and the others were ready to go also when Tanner grabbed his arm. Aedan turned around. “Can I help you?”

Tanner looked grim, saying, “You’re a warden, you said?”

“Yes, what of it?” Alistair answered, glancing at Aedan, confused.

“Eh, well I want join you. Not the wardens, the cause.” Tanner stared him down for a moment or two before adding, “I got my reasons lad, and all you need know right now is I’m bloody handy in a fight.” He eyed Sten and Alistair up and down and sniffed. “Not one for taking up a sword but I got no qualm about putting a bolt in someone’s skull from a distance."

Aedan watched as the rogue adjusted his belt, which concealed a few flasks and a glimmer of what looked like a hilt of at least a dozen knife blades. Tanner noticed he was watching and sniffed again. “Yeah, these beauties get me out of plenty of tight spots, and I ain’t talking about whores lad, though the stories I could tell you!”

“Yes well I think we’ve heard quite enough, wouldn’t you say, Aedan?” Alistair interjected quickly. 

Tanner nodded. “Yeah, what say you lad?”

Aedan smiled and extended his hand. “I say we welcome your aid, Tanner.” 

Tanner grinned and turned to Hawke. “See you around then, Garrett. Say hello to that fine sister of yours for me!” Hawke only rolled his eyes, laughed and said his farewells. The group journeyed down the road until nightfall before deciding that here was a decent place to set up camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first new companion! I had tons of fun writing Tanner and I hope you'll all grow to like him too :D As always, thank you for reading and I hope you'll drop me a review or two.


	5. The Eyes Of The Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to bolster the Grey Wardens with allies. The Dalish have been chosen, but will they help?

# Chapter Four: The Eyes Of The Forest

That night Aedan had a nightmare. He was back at Highever Castle and the attack was happening. He was watching, paralysed by horror, as his family was cut down one by one in front of his eyes. Aedan tried to break the fear but found he could not. Next he saw Fergus rise from the dead and curse him for not saving him. The next thing he saw was Howe surrounded by fire, laughing. Aedan finally broke free and grabbed a nearby sword and ran at him, ready to slice him in two. Then suddenly a grotesque looking dragon screeched and landed on top of the castle. Was this the Archdemon? Perhaps. It screeched again and then Aedan saw them, the darkspawn army. Hundreds of thousands, if not millions began storming Highever Castle. It let out an earth shattering roar, breathing fire as it did.

Aedan awoke screaming. Alistair rushed to his side, waving off Leliana, and put a hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him. Once Aedan had calmed down he said quietly, "Bad dreams, huh?"

Aedan nodded. "It was so vivid. Darkspawn everywhere. It seemed so... so real."

Alistair sighed and sat down beside him. "Well it is real, sort of. You see, part of being a Grey Warden is being able to hear the darkspawn,” he watched as Aedan absorbed this new information. Alistair was not surprised to see him frown. “That's what your dreams are. Hearing them. The Archdemon, it... 'talks' to the horde, and we feel it as they do.” Alistair stared into the bonfire that was in the middle of the camp and continued. “That's why we know this is really a Blight. It takes a bit, but eventually you can block the dreams out. Some of the older Grey Wardens say they can understand the Archdemon a bit, but I sure can't." 

He waited for Aedan to say something, instead of just nod, but when he realised a response was not forthcoming he sighed again. "Anyhow, when I heard you thrashing around, I thought I should tell you. It was scary at first for me too."

Alistair got up to leave when Aedan found his voice. "After what I've been through, bad dreams of the Archdemon is nothing. But thanks, Alistair. I appreciate you telling me."

Alistair nodded, then had a thoughtful look on his face, as though he was thinking whether or not to ask something. In the end he decided to sit back down and ask. "What happened to you? Duncan never told me how he found you, or where.”

Aedan rubbed his eyes, trying to work the sleep out of them. He was awake now so he’d take the last watch. He’d still not processed what had happened at Highever and was still reluctant to talk about it just yet, but Alistair seemed sincere in asking. "There was a horrific incident, that much I will say. It’s still fresh in my mind, and I hope you will understand that I don’t want to discuss it right now. Perhaps later. The result is becoming a Grey Warden recruit.”

Alistair stared at him for a moment, remembering his mentioning of watching his family die. He cringed, that of course would be difficult to talk about, to anyone. "Of course, I didn’t mean to pry, Aedan." 

Aedan grit his teeth in frustration. He didn’t mean for that to come across as cold as it sounded. “Alistair I - ”

“No, it’s alright, believe me. We’ll discuss it another time.” Alistair smiled and Aedan detected no negative tones. He'd decided to take the noble at face value.

Aedan nodded. “Thank you, Alistair. For now let us concentrate on building our army. Shall we leave for the Brecillian Forest at first light?"

Alistair nodded too. "Right. Yes, let's do that. Once Arl Eamon hears of this, we may need to get in line."

After that Aedan told Alistair to get some sleep, that it was his turn to take watch. While he waited for everyone else to wake, Aedan noticed Bodahn and Sandal had set camp nearby.

"Bodahn? How are you?" Cousland asked, frowning a little.

The middle aged dwarf beamed up at him. "Ah, it's good to see you, my timely rescuer. Bodahn Feddic, at you service once again. I saw you and thought to myself 'what safer place to rest for the evening, than in the camp of a Grey Warden'? I'm perfectly willing to offer you a fine discount for the inconvenience of our presence. How does that sound? Good, yes?"

Aedan shook his head and smiled, helping him unpack his wagon, waving shortly to Sandal. "You are welcome to stay, Bodahn. It'll be good to have a merchant travelling with us should we be in sudden need of supplies. We are just about to leave here and travel to the Brecillian Forest in the morning. You and Sandal are welcome to join us in our travels, if you would like."

Bodahn grinned from ear to ear. "We're much obliged. Thank you, kind sir! Messere, allow us a few moments to gather our things, before we leave?" Bodahn asked.

Aedan nodded, said good bye, and walked over to his bedroll and made himself comfortable until his shift was over. When everyone awoke and had eaten, they set out east, towards the Brecillian Forest.

* * * * *

After purchasing equipment and poultices from the dwarven merchants, the group was properly outfitted for travelling and slaying darkspawn, especially Leliana and Sten, who were wearing no armour at all before Morrigan and the wardens' arrival. Now, after three more days travel they had finally come to the outskirts of the forest. After searching aimlessly for hours they came across a Dalish encampment, where they were confronted by three elven warriors.

"Stop right there, outsider! The Dalish have camped in this spot, I suggest you go elsewhere, and quickly," one of them warned, longbow aimed at their hearts.

Alistair and Sten especially gripped their weapons tighter and were about to pull them out when Aedan signalled them to stay their hands. "Good. I have been looking for the Dalish. I am Aedan of the Grey Wardens, and I'm in need of aid against the Blight," he replied, raising his hands up in a peaceful gesture.

"A Grey Warden? How do I know you are telling the truth, shem?" the leader of the three asked suspiciously.

"How many people pretend to be Grey Wardens?" Alistair asked her sarcastically.

The leader glared at him but appeared to be considering this for a moment. "Very well. I shall take you to speak with the Keeper. While in the camp, I suggest you keep your hands to yourselves, and remember, our arrows will be trained on you. Follow me," she said testily, as she turned and stormed off towards the camp. 

Aedan and Alistair exchanged exasperated looks but followed the lithe woman. As the elf lead them through the camp, Aedan looked around and could see elves lying on beds, some with visible wounds, other looked quite sick. They continued walking until she stopped in front of an older, bald male elf. This must be the keeper she spoke of, Aedan thought.

The older elf eyed them all carefully and didn’t speak right away. Aedan also did not miss the slight curling of his upper lip, almost in disgust. But quick as it appeared, the expression disappeared. "Hmm. I see we have guests. Who are these strangers, Mithra? I have precious little patience, and even less time to spend on outsiders today.”

Pointing at Aedan, Mithra replied, "This one claims to be a Grey Warden. He wishes to speak with the clan. I thought it best to leave the decision to you."

"That was wise of you. Ma serannas, Mithra. You may return to your post," the keeper said, bowing slightly towards her.

"Ma nuvenin, Keeper." Mithra said, returning the bow, before walking away.

The Keeper then turned to the group, though appearing to speak directly to Aedan. "Now, allow me to introduce myself. I am Zathrian, the keeper of this clan, its guide and preserver of ancient lore. And you are?"

Aedan bowed low, wanting to show as much respect as possible. "My name is Aedan Cousland. As Mithra told you, I am a Grey Warden, in need of aid against the Blight," he replied smoothly, hoping this was not offending him. This was his first encounter with a Dalish clan.

The keeper seemed to be pleased. Though he did not smile, there was no hostility in his tone. "Yes. I have already sensed the corruption spreading to the south. The existence of the Blight is not news to me." Zathrian replied, dismissively. "I would have taken the clan north by now, had we the ability to move. Sadly, as you can see, we do not."

"Yes, it seems you've had your own troubles. What are the odds?" Alistair added, looking around the encampment sympathetically.

Ignoring Alistair, Zathrian continued. "I imagine you are here regarding the treaties we signed centuries ago. Unfortunately, we may not be able to live up to the promise we made. This will require some... explanation. Please, follow me."

Zathrian led them to the elves they saw earlier. He explained the traditions of his clan when they entered different parts of Ferelden, but it wasn't until he mentioned the werewolves that Aedan really took notice.

"Wait. You said werewolves? I thought werewolves were merely stories parents told their children?" Aedan asked in a worried tone.

Zathrian nodded solemnly. "Yes, werewolves. They... ambushed us, and though we were able to drive them back, much damage was done. Many of our warriors lie dying as we speak." Zathrian said, indicating the wounded elves. "Even with all our magic and healing skill, we will eventually be forced to slay our brethren to prevent them from becoming beasts. The Blight's evil must be stopped, but we are in no position to uphold our obligations. I am truly sorry."

Aedan didn’t like the sound of this. He hadn’t come this far to give up at the first sign of difficulty. "Is there any way we can be of some aid?" He asked.

Zathrian drew his pale brows together, watching the warden intently. "The affliction is a curse that runs rampant in their blood, bringing great agony, and ultimately either death or a transformation into something monstrous. The only thing that can help them, must come from the source of the curse itself. And that would be no trivial task to retrieve."

Aedan looked at the elf in earnest. "I am willing to do what it takes to help your people, so that in time, we can stand together against this Blight."

There was something in the humans tone, something respectful and truthful that made Zathrian think this over for some time. Along while later the elf nodded slowly. "Within the Brecillian Forests dwells a great wolf. We call him Witherfang. It was within him the curse originated, and through his blood that it has spread.” He leaned on his staff slightly and added, “If he is killed and his heart brought to me, perhaps I could destroy the curse, but this task has proven too dangerous for us.” He stared directly into the young man's eyes. “I sent some hunters into the forest a week ago, but they have not returned. I cannot risk any more of my clan."

"If we find this Witherfang for you, will you then give us the aid we seek?" Alistair asked him, realising the seriousness of the situation, and impressed with how his companion was handling things so far.

Zathrian lifted his gaze and stared squarely at the ex-templar and nodded. "Yes, you will have the aid you seek, and our gratitude.” As an afterthought he said, “I must warn you, more than werewolves lurk in the Brecillian Forests. It has a history full of carnage and murder, you see.” When Alistair’s gaze did not falter Zathrian nodded, a glimmer of respect in his face. “Where there is much death, the Veil separating the spirit realm from our own becomes thin, allowing spirits to possess things, living or dead, but if you can indeed help, then I wish you luck.” He pushed off the staff and before he turned away from them he said, “I must return to caring for my people. Creators speed you on your way."

"Charming fellow, isn't he?" Alistair said, turning back to the others. 

Aedan nodded, seeming lost in thought. “He’s clearly agitated and angry by what’s going on here, not that I can blame him. Werewolves, by the Maker!” 

“Nothin’ to be afraid of lad. The bigger they are the harder they fall, er, no offence mate.” Tanner said, glancing sideways at Sten. The giant’s only response was a non-committal grunt. “Just line me up a shot, lad, my bolts will do the rest.” Aedan raised a slightly amused eyebrow at the rogue’s aplomb.

Aedan turned to Leliana and Morrigan, hoping for some input. Leliana hadn’t taken her eyes off of the sick elves, and it was plain to see she was sympathetic of their sickness. “We must do all we can to help, warden. The keeper might appear aloof, but beneath that front he’s deeply distressed. I can tell.”

“He is playing you for a fool warden. The elf has an ulterior motive.” When Leliana glared at her, Morrigan smirked and added snidely, “I can tell.”

Aedan rolled his eyes. Morrigan was definitely a beautiful woman but why she had to be such a bitch at times he would never know. "Alright, thank you for your thoughts, let's go find this Witherfang. The sooner we get that done, the sooner we get more allies." They all nodded, and they made their way further into the forest. 

It was not long before they were attacked by bears and what looked like wolves. Aedan wondered if these were the werewolves Zathrian had spoken of since they looked very different from any wolf he had seen, dark ragged fur with little spikes protruding along their backs and bloodshot eyes. He imagined them to be bigger.

"Blight wolves." Alistair said, answering his unasked question. "These wolves must've fed on some darkspawn, and now they have the corruption. Duncan told me of these after my Joining." The first of the Blight wolves was cut down by Sten, the second by Alistair. Aedan sliced through the third, then turned to see Leliana about to be attacked by two of them. She had stabbed at one, wounding it, but the other was creeping around behind her.

"Red! Get down!" Just as the wolf launched itself into the air, Tanner fired off a shot. The bolt hit the beast through the side, impaling it against a tree, opening up it’s side as the bolt exploded on impact. 

Leliana looked up to see the one she wounded preparing to attack again, so she threw both daggers at it, and pulled her bow and fired an arrow as well. The wolf dodged one dagger, but got hit by the other. While it still tried to charge, Leliana's arrow pierced its forehead, killing it instantly. After the last of the Blight wolves was killed by Morrigan, Tanner asked Leliana if she was alright.

"Thank you, Tanner. If you had not warned me of the other beast, I would be with the Maker now," she said with a grateful smile.

"I got your back lass,” Tanner replied winking as he eyed her up and down suggestively. “Any time.” 

Aedan half expected her to shy away at his flirtatious banter, but instead she just giggled. Morrigan gave her a scathing look before rolling her eyes and mumbled some insult under her breath. Aedan had to wonder if maybe she was jealous.

They cautiously continued, watching for more of the Blight wolves, and anything else that looked unfriendly. It wasn't long before they heard sounds of battle. Looking to the others, Aedan saw the same look on their faces. They ran to where the sounds came from. What he saw amazed him.

There was an elven woman, surrounded and fighting tall, savage looking beasts with elongated arms and lengs. Werewolves. There was no mistaking them now, Aedan thought. For a few seconds he couldn't move, the sight of this elf attacking, no, defending! She was defending a second elf lying on the ground, wounded. She stood surrounded, but with a thick branch in hand, she remained defiant.

It wasn't until he heard Sten grunt that Aedan was able to move. The two wardens charged at two of the beasts, cutting them down with quick slices. Leliana had run around the side, and thrown her daggers again, this time both hitting their mark. The werewolf looked down at its chest in shock, before falling to the ground, dead.

Tanner was providing Sten with backup, and after firing off a few more explosive rounds and gleeful banter, the giant had a clear path to reach the woman. He cut and slashed, fighting hard against the unnatural creatures and when his sword was ripped out of his hands, Sten roared, grabbing one of the beasts by the throat. They were almost the same height and size. Almost. Sten stared at the beast for a second, before throwing it to the ground. As it landed, Tanner could hear the sickening sound of bones breaking. The beast did not move again. “Shit! Remind me not to piss that guy off!” 

Sten picked up his weapon and charged the last two werewolves, bringing his great sword down over his head, slicing one straight down the middle. As the other turned, Sten brought his sword up and across. The werewolf fell to the ground in two pieces. The Qunari turned, blood covering his face, with a look of great satisfaction. Aedan looked to the others, saw they were alright with minimal wounds and no bite marks, and walked over to the elven girl. She had been knocked to the ground by one of the beasts, a deep gash on her exposed leg.. He offered his hand to help her up.

"Th-thank you, warrior," she stammered, clearly shaken from what she had just seen. It was only when she got to her feet, Aedan realised she didn't have the delicate features, nor tiny build of the other elves, and though her long raven hair covered her ears, he had a sneaking suspicion she might, in fact, be human.

“Are you alright?” He asked. Aedan watched as she picked up the branch, which turned out to be an expertly carved staff and put a small distance between them. Obviously she was uncomfortable, but if she really was human, what the hell was she doing out here and dressed like one of the Dalish?

“I’m fine now.” She bent down to examine the elf, clearly worried for him, ignoring her own wounds. “Can you hear me, lethallin?” Her hands roamed down his body, checking for injuries Aedan assumed. She gasped when she saw the extent of his wounds, terrible ugly gashes where the werewolves must have taken a few swipes. “He’s lost much blood, warrior. I must get him back to camp, and quickly.”

Aedan knelt down beside her. “The name’s Aedan. We can escort you both back there, but then we have to get back to our mission.” 

Aedan watched, intrigued, as her eyes turned a darker shade of brown while she stared him down. “These are my people, and I have sworn an oath to see this through. I will return here, with or without you.” 

Aedan opened his mouth to object, but was interrupted by Morrigan scoffing, “You are obviously human, you stupid girl. How can these be your people?” 

The two women glared each other and Aedan thought it wise to intervene before there would be more bloodshed. “Sten, could you carry the elf back to camp? Alistair and Morrigan take lead, Tanner, Leliana take centre and I will watch the rear.” Aedan turned to the girl. “What is your name?”

She glared at him some more before saying carefully, “You may call me Aleta.” Obviously she didn’t trust them yet, even though they had just saved her life. 

“Aleta and I will watch the rear.” In one easy, swift movement, Sten had lifted the elf over his shoulders and the two wardens had to suppress a smile as Aleta gasped, clearly impressed by the Qunari’s strength. Sten grunted and moved forward, following Morrigan and Alistair.

It didn’t take long for the group to return to the encampment. They were received by a blonde elf and two others. Aleta stepped forward and put her hand to the wounded elf’s head and muttered some words. A soft glow escaped her hands and the elf regained consciousness. Dazed, he looked around as Sten lowered him to the ground and leaned into Aleta. “What, what happened, lethelan?”

For the first time, Aedan saw her smile, it was worth waiting for. Aleta took on all his weight and said, “I found you and the others in the forest. You were attacked by werewolves. They did not make it. You were the only one to survive.” A painful moan escaped his lips and Aleta passed him to the blonde elf. “It was a massacre, Mithra. I have done what I can, but he will need to be looked at by Sylaise. I do not think he has been bitten.”

Mithra glared at Aleta. “You should not have gone in there after him alone, human.” She walked away but before she vanished from sight, she turned and said bitterly, “Thank-you for saving him.” 

Aedan watched Aleta flinch and turn away into the forest, throwing her hood over her face after healing her leg. There was something going on here and he knew it was something he would likely never be privy to. The others followed as they made their way back into the Brecillian Forest. They encountered many more wolves, blight wolves as well a few werewolves and they were easily cut down. They also learned that the newest addition was a mage, much to Alistair’s dismay. His templar training usually didn’t interfere, only where Morrigan was concerned so Aedan didn’t make anything of it.

They were almost into the heart of the forest when Aleta said softly, “We should visit the Grand Oak. He will know where to find Witherfang.” It was the first time she spoke since leaving the elven camp. 

“Who or what is this Grand Oak?” Alistair asked.

“The Grand Oak is an ancient spirit of the forest. He knows much,” she replied, glancing briefly in his direction.

Since none of them had any better ideas, it was decided to go with Aleta's plan. When they arrived, however, Aedan was quickly regretting listening to her. The Grand Oak was indeed old, was indeed ancient and he did know much, but he spoke slowly and rhymed, of all things! Aedan don’t know who it annoyed more, him or Morrigan; her staff crackled impatiently more than a few times. It took them what seemed like an age to realise that it wanted some acorn that had been stolen by an old hermit and once they found out about him, Morrigan definitely lost her patience.

At any rate, even though this all seemed like one big waste of time, they played the hermits game and were rewarded with the acorn and traded it for a magical oak branch, which was to allow them to head right into the lair of the werewolves. 

The group finally reached the entrance to the lair and were stunned to find a fog blocking the path. Morrigan, who was well and truly over this forest and its mysteries said in her most insolent tone to date, “Just wave the blasted twig and lets us be gone from this abhorred place!”

Aedan made a mental note to reprimand her later but did as she said. Moments later the fog cleared and they were allowed entry. They took only a few steps in the ruins when they were ambushed by another pack of werewolves. They all braced themselves for a fight but were taken aback as one of them stepped forward and actually spoke!

“How dare you enter here! This is a sacred place to us and you and your kind are not welcome!” It grunted and snapped its jaws at them savagely. 

Alistair lowered his sword and shield carefully and said, “You speak, creature? You are not mindless beasts?”

The wolf growled. “We are not mindless, human. We know what those elves have done, and we will not forgive! You! Turn back now or die!” 

Alistair brought his weapon and shield back up. “We have come for Witherfang, and nothing else. Stand aside or die.” Their choice had been made. Immediately Aedan found myself blocking snapping jaws as the lightning fast reflexes of the wolf clawed at his shield, pushing him backwards with its massive force. Aedan yelled a war cry and the others charged forward into the fray. All around him, Aedan could hear growling, howling, cursing and magical beams as they tried to force their way forward. They were going at it for what seemed forever when suddenly an unseen force threw them back. Aedan looked up to see the others thrown also. He quickly reached for his sword and as he grasped it he saw a single white wolf with thorns coiled around its legs. It howled and he had to block his ears, it was so painful. When it stopped Aedan looked around to see his comrades but no werewolves.

“What in the name of the Maker just happened?” Alistair asked in confusion as he helped Leliana up. Aedan could only shake his head, he had no idea either. “One minute were getting pummelled like there’s no tomorrow and then next, it’s bam! Busted ear drum. Seriously.”

Sten grunted in agreement and Morrigan just rolled her eyes. Aleta, however, said nothing and continued forward, leaving the others staring at her. “Hey, you know something, don’t you?” Alistair said. 

She ignored him and it wasn’t until he grabbed her shoulder and made her look at him did she reply, “Yes.”

Alistair just stared at her, expecting her to elaborate. When she didn’t he pushed. “Well?”

“Witherfang. The wolf was Witherfang.” She shrugged him off and kept walking. Alistair couldn’t believe this, what was her problem? Aedan shook his head when Alistair looked at him, frustrated and followed her in. This was going to be complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last new character to aid the wardens has now been introduced! Will she prove loyal or does she have an agenda? Thank you to anyone still reading, much appreciation.


	6. Witherfang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two new companions and more adventure to be had. Aedan leads his party deeper into the Brecillian Forest looking for the beast that has infected the Dalish clan within. All cannon belongs to Bioware. Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Five: Witherfang

Once they entered the ruins Aedan could smell decay. All around them lay the remains of various adventures or possible bones of previous elves that might have lived here. They went down some stairs to reveal a huge room with three doors. One led down a winding staircase and the other two into separate rooms.  
They had a quick look and decided to take the door that was immediately in front of them.

That broke off into another three sections. Alistair was beginning to think this might have been some great place of importance, perhaps a temple or some such thing? Either way they found themselves fighting off various small creatures and some not so small. Aedan watched Morrigan set alight a huge spider that was half his size. She also torched its cocoons and comrades. “Very effective Morrigan, thank you.”

She nodded and kept moving. The group had gone down a few more paths and gotten deeper into the first floor when they spotted a huge cluster of bones and scattered weapons. Then the smell of rotten flesh assaulted their nostrils. And sulphur. They looked at each other and smirked. There was a dragon nearby, and by the size of this dwelling it couldn’t be bigger than a hatchling. Suddenly Aedan couldn’t wait to get in there and fight it. They pressed forward and sure enough there it was, a baby dragon about the size of an ox, breathing fire directly at them.

Alistair and Aedan were the first to charge in. Thanks to Morrigan’s frost enchantment on their shields the flames did not affect them. The hatchling was furious and took a swipe at the wardens with its claws. It was so focused on the warriors that it did not notice Sten flanking it from the side. It howled in ferocious pain as the Qunari pierced its scaly armour. Writhing in pain the dragon swooped its tail and smacked the Qunari in the ribs. He grunted in pain but continued his hacking. From behind the wardens Morrigan was hurling frost bolts and Aleta was attempting to bind the dragon’s tail to the earth with an incantation as she flexed her fingers around the crystal on her staff. White and grey lights exploded from her fingertips and threw the dragon off balance, stunning it for a few precious seconds, allowing Alistair and Aedan to combine their strength and ram it, hard. With great effort, they pushed it onto its side, leaving its belly exposed. Leliana and Tanner combined their efforts and took aim, shooting arrows and bolts right through its heart. With one final growl the dragon’s head lolled to the side and went silent.

After a few moments Alistair and Aedan chuckled, they couldn’t believe what they had just achieved. The two clasped forearms. “Nice work, Alistair. I had forgotten what it was like to be able to rely on someone in combat.” 

He laughed whole-heartedly. “You’re welcome. That was one hell of a rush, I’ll admit.” 

“Look what the dragon hatchling was guarding!” Leliana exclaimed. They sheathed their weapons and gasped when they saw the piled gold everywhere. Chests and barrels full of gold. They rustled through a few of them and took what they needed, new arrows for Leliana, boots for Alistair and Aedan, a new bracer for Sten an amulet for Morrigan and a gorgeous jewel encrusted set of daggers for Tanner. Aleta refused to take anything, declaring this as disrespectful to the elves that lived here, no matter how long ago that might have been.

Before they continued on Aleta turned to Sten. “You are hurt.”  
It was not a question. The giant stared back and said nothing. Aleta took a step toward him and said, “I heard a rib break back there, you must be in pain.”

Sten grunted at her, but let her put her hands on him. She shook her head. “No, I believe there is more than one broken rib here.” She applied more pressure on the affected area and the Qunari hissed. “Give me a moment, wardens. I can fix this.” She turned to the giant, “Sit please.”

Sten raised a single eyebrow at her, then turned to Aedan as if to ask if she was insane. He just shrugged his shoulders indifferently. “If she says she can fix you, why not? Better to save our injury kits for when we really need them.” Sten seemed to agree and he did as he was asked. Within a few minuets she had him healed and ready to go. Aedan and Alistair especially, were impressed.

Sten grunted his thanks and they continued their way down into the lower ruins. They’d been walking for a half hour when suddenly Aleta froze on the spot. She cocked her head, as if listening for something. It was Leliana who touched her back and asked gently, “What is it?”

Aleta’s voice was but a whisper. “Can’t you hear him? The little one?” 

Leliana looked very concerned. “Hear who?” 

Aleta then began walking, not really seeming to know where she was going, just walking and listening. This time Tanner put a hand on her shoulder too. “What’s going on, lass? Who can you hear?” And then they all saw him, a ghost of a boy of about eight. The spectre looked frightened, repeating, “Mamae? Mamae na mara san…” over and over. It was such a hauntingly sad tone that both wardens stopped to listen to him.

With her usual charm Morrigan chimed in. “Get a hold of yourselves, ‘tis just a child. A very dead child. Be gone, spirit!” As if it heard her, the spirit looked directly at her and ran away. 

Just then Alistair chuckled, “You’ve got a wonderful way with children you know!”

The mage glared at him and replied, “You are a moron, Alistair. I do hope you are not contagious.” 

Alistair was about to retort when Aedan interrupted them both. “Cut it out you pair. Aleta, did you understand any of that?”

She shook her head. “He spoke the Old Tongue. Most of the lore from the times of Arlathan has been lost. He seemed scared, maybe something happened here? I’m going to find out.” And without another word she tore after the spirit. Aedan sighed and followed her and, just as he half expected, they ran into an ambush. Corpses rose from the ground and began to fight them, and even though they had been dead for only Maker knew how long, it seemed their skills with blades and shields had not waned. 

When they had dispatched them, the spirit returned. “Mamae? Mamae? Mamae?” Each phrase got higher and higher, like he was being tortured or something. That’s when Aleta tried to make contact. 

She approached the spirit carefully. “Hello little one. What is your name?” The spirit backed away, looking from side to side, lost in his own world. “I cannot understand what it is you want, little one could you please – ’’ And just like that he disappeared, screaming in his wake.

Alistair sighed. “We will learn nothing more from it. Lets get moving.” Looking around Aedan saw another split in the way. Two doors on either side of the room. One of them led to a small alcove where a large stone sarcophagus stood and another that looked to be the way out of here. They decided to take the smaller room first and after searching inside the sarcophagus, they found an ancient tablet with symbols and drawing etched on it. Aedan passed it around so the others could see it, but none of them seemed to have an inkling for what it might mean. 

Then Aleta held it. She mouthed some of the words, trying to sound them out then she smiled, hugging the tablet to her. He had to ask. “What have you figured out?” 

She smiled some more before saying slowly, “This is a ritual for those undertaking Uthenera, the Long Sleep.” They groups was stumped, so Aleta sighed before continuing. “This is precious lore of my people but I do not expect you to understand the value of this tablet. It might as well be just a hunk of stone to you.”

Alistair and Aedan looked at each other, then to the others, none of them really knowing what to say. Aleta was quiet for a while but she must have decided to share something with them because she cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “Sarel often recites tales of Arlathan to the d’alen, the young ones, and one of those tales is that of Uthenera. A very long time ago, as you would know, the elves were many and lived in the sacred citadel of Arlathan. They lived long and rich lives, free of disease and infection, some of the eldest of these lived for centuries. But all was not well. Many of those elders grew weary of such a long lifespan and wished to stand aside to allow the younger generation to flourish. They travelled to ancient temples and went to lie down in chambers like this one,” she motioned the sarcophagus beside her, “and just simply went to sleep. Some slept for centuries and most would never awaken.”

The groups absorbed this slowly, all of them except for Leliana, who seemed to thrive on this tale. Aedan turned to watch the red head in fascination as she said, “How terribly sad for them.”

Aleta smiled at her. “You would think so, but no. In those ancient times this act was one of great honour and sacrifice. Many of the elves would come to lay wreathes of flowers and gems beside these tombs in celebration of this extraordinary sacrifice. It was a great honour.”

“And now they practise this tradition no longer, I presume?” Morrigan’s tone was dull and obviously bored. 

Aleta scowled at her, resting the tablet on the sarcophagus and said in clear annoyance, “No they do not. Since the fall of Arlathan just about everything of our old ways have been lost to us. Humans took everything from us, turned us into slaves and destroyed everything we held dear!”

To Aedan’s complete astonishment, Morrigan actually laughed at her. Coldly. “You stupid fool. You are human, girl, not an elf. Can you not see that? Or simply chose not too? Being reared by elves does not – ’’

“Make me elven, yes?” Aleta cut her off viciously. “Yes, witch, I do realise that. But that is who I am and all I know! Now shut your poisonous mouth before I shut it for you!”

Morrigan just rolled her eyes. “Time to go then?” Her question was aimed at the wardens, but Aedan and Alistair had to rush to get their mind up to speed. Had they really just seen that? Someone put Morrigan, of all people, in her place? Wow. Aedan turned to look at Alistair, the idiot was covering his mouth and his shoulders were moving up and down, as if he were trying to suppress laughter. Aedan tried not to but he did it anyway. He laughed too. This earned him a glare from Morrigan but he didn’t care.

Leliana hugged Aleta sympathetically. “You poor dear. I am sorry for all that’s happened. Thank you for sharing that with us. Will you keep the tablet?”

Aleta smiled at her, all signs of annoyance gone now. “No, I think I will return it to the Keeper, we need to collect as much of our heritage as we can.” The red head nodded, seeming to agree with the idea. They continued through the other doorway and fought some more spiders and undead until they came across an ancient doorway, decorated in dulled silver and other metals. 

Aleta stopped in front of it and said, “This is the chamber of an Old One who came for Uthenera. Can we go inside?”

Aedan had no problem with it so he shrugged his shoulders and Alistair grinned, pushing on the door. “Sure, why not?”

Inside here was a small pool of water and an alter. Aleta looked down at the tablet, her fingers tracing a pattern on the stone. Then they all watched as she knelt down by the pool of water and reached out a jug filled with the water. She then carried it over to the alter and knelt before it, seeming to pray. Then she took a single sip and took the jug back to the pool of water, emptying it. Then they all heard a smash and the jug broke into pieces and a door creaked open. They all looked around to see yet another room connected to this one. This must be the actual chamber Aedan thought to himself. Inside here was a platform raised high in the centre with a huge sarcophagus in the middle, and below it were smaller ones. Of course Aleta wanted to check them out.

There was nothing of any real interest to them, just bones lying in tombs, but to Aleta the tomb at the top held some special significance. She made her way up to the highest tomb and as she peered into it, she gasped. 

The group all looked up to see another ghost, this time of a woman, wailing something frantic in ancient elvish. “Nae! Ga rahn s’dael! Ga rahn!” She moved all over the place, throwing her hands in the air. Aedan felt a chill run down his spine and then their eyes locked. The apparition stared right at him, a cold piercing glare. Then she spoke again, that same sentence, more urgent and angry now. 

Aedan was at a loss as to what he should say, but he gave it a shot. “I don’t know what you’re saying, woman. Are you in pain or something?” She just kept staring at him, with those accusing eyes. 

“She’s looking for her son!” Aleta exclaimed. “He’s been looking for her too. They must have been separated all this time.” She turned to the spirit. “Is your child missing?” The woman looked from him then back to Aleta, clearly confused and still angry. The next thing he knew the room suddenly got very cold.

“Magic…” Alistair murmured, tightening his grip on his sword and shield. Aedan looked around and winced as he saw two greater shades materialise before him. Swallowing a lump in his throat he looked at Morrigan, who herself looked slightly unnerved. Aedan quickly glanced at the apparition and was surprised to see that she was the one who was summoning these monsters. The young noble had never battled a ghost before and wasn’t sure what to do.

“Well don’t just stand there and gawk, you addled minded fool, attack it!” Morrigan’s remark snapped him out of indecision and he lunged at one of the shades. The warden was disheartened to discover his blade had no effect and even more annoyed that the thing was able to throw black bolts of energy at him. It looked like they were going to have to rely on the mages.

Morrigan threw a bolt of contained lightning at one of the shades then a bolt of frost, sending it wailing backwards down the stairs. She followed it, draining its life force with an arrogant smirk. Aleta took on the other shade. While not as ostentatious as Morrigan’s magic, she summoned the collapsed rubble and steam rolled the shade into the side of the sarcophagus and then summoned vines from the walls to squeeze the shade until it burst. Then the two mages turned their staves on the ghost of the woman simultaneously, and combined their magic to make her implode. 

Sten, Alistair, Leliana, Tanner and Aedan just stood there watching, half with mouths agape, the other half eyes wide. Obviously this was an irregular occurrence in Thedas. Once they were sure that the apparition had been exorcised, they looked into the sarcophagus to reveal some impressive looking armour. “It’s the armour of the Juggernaut! I thought it was only a fable!” Aleta exclaimed. She turned to Sten. “You’re probably the only one who will be able to wear it you know. It comes as a set. We’ll need the boots and the bracers as well as the helmet, but be warned. The rest of the pieces will be heavily guarded.” The Qunari nodded and they took it along with them.

After more twists and turns they came across another stone door, this time there was nothing special to note about it other than nowhere else to go. They pushed the great stone door forward and were set upon by a horde of more undead. After destroying them they found this room led down some more stairs and into what looked like a laboratory. There were books and parchment scattered over a long rectangular wooden table as well as vials and cages. Below that there was a huge stone floor with four circles in each corner. 

“I wonder what they’re for?” Alistair asked. Since there was none here who would be able to answer he just shrugged his shoulders. They descended the stairs to check it out when they heard a crackling under their feet. 

“It’s electricity, get out of the way!” Morrigan shouted to them, trying to get to higher ground. The shock waves flowed right around them and most of them got out of the way in time, except Alistair. He screamed as a bolt zapped him and then he fell into a heap on the floor. Then all around they could hear laughing. 

That really pissed Aedan off. “Show yourself, darkspawn!” A tall figure dressed in a purple robe materialised before them, moving its arms around and muttering an enchantment. Before Aedan could even draw his blade, it had thrown a bolt of lightning at him. His first thought then was to use his shield but for some reason he found himself rolling out of the way instead. Muttering curses he looked over at his comrades only to see more undead rising to battle them.

Leliana threw two daggers at an incoming skeleton and reached for another dagger on her leg brace to impale a second one. From behind her, Aleta muttered some enchantments and three skeletons were thrown from her immediate radius. They didn’t even get a chance to rise, because with reflexes like a cat, Leliana had shot three volleys from her bow, one for each skeleton skull. They collapsed on the floor with a soft smack.

Not too far from them, Sten was cutting down his enemies like they were daisies. He found himself surrounded by a whole group and with a satisfied grunt, he shoulder barged the lot and they went flying. Then he charged for the tall darkspawn. Just as he was about to slice it in half, it vanished. The Qunari’s blade came crashing down and hit only stone. He grunted in frustration and turned to see it re-materialise on the opposite side of the room. He ran to charge it again but the darkspawn moved again. He quickly realised this approach was ineffective and turned to Morrigan, who was helping Aedan to his feet.

“This is clearly not working. What is that thing?” Aedan deflected an arrow with his shield and Morrigan fried the skeleton archer in response.

“Your sense of awareness awes me.” Her voice was loaded with sarcasm. “Why do we not simply ask it to stop, hmm? Clearly this is a battle of will, and we must battle it accordingly. Protect me while I try to gain a foothold here.”

So he followed her as she dashed into the fray. The darkspawn saw her coming and readied itself with a dark bolt, hurling it directly at her. Morrigan parried it with a bolt of frost, and by the time she had deflected it another bolt was launched at her. Cursing again, Aedan threw himself between her and the bolt. It connected with his shield and threw them both back, Aedan landing right on top of her. The next thing he knew he couldn’t move.

“Great, now we truly are going to die, well done, warden.” Morrigan rolled her eyes as she realised what had just happened.

The emissary was stalking over to them and about to mutter some more incantations when Tanner let lose a flurry of bolts. They formed a circle around the darkspawn and for a moment the creature just stared at him. Then, slowly, the ground beneath the darkspawn began to glow and suddenly a loud explosion erupted below it. The darkspawn was flung backwards and just before it was about to hit the wall, the emissary managed to magically propel itself forward, only just breaking its fall. Tanner rushed to Aedan and Morrigan and said, “The lad just saved your life, you ungrateful battle-axe!”

Morrigan glared at him. “All the good it did hmm?” came her reply. Tanner bit back a wisecrack and tried to help them up but unfortunately the combination of the spell and Aedan’s armour being too heavy, made it impossible for him to pry the two apart fast enough. The emissary was closing in on the three of them and Tanner had to make a decision. He gave them an apologetic look before bracing himself to escape. However, before he could even move the darkspawn thrusted its hand forward and Tanner, too, was paralysed. The wily rogue cursed and hoped the other three could pull this off before someone got killed.

Over in the distance, Leliana was firing more arrows, opening up a path for Sten, who ran to charge the magician darkspawn again. Once he went to strike it, the emissary laughed evilly and again transported itself on another circle. Then the Qunari yelled, “Do it now, mage!” Aleta ran to get closer and with great effort she summoned an earthquake that trapped it in place. Then Sten charged for the last time and sliced the head from the pinned magician. It fell in a heap on the rubble and the curse that was binding Aedan and Tanner lifted.

Aedan helped Morrigan up and went to see Alistair. He coughed and shook his head. “Well that was a bit of a bummer. Guess I missed all the action huh?”

Aedan shook his head. “Most of us did. Thanks to these three,” he gestured to Sten, Aleta and Leliana, “we’re alive. Thank you.” They nodded and sheathed their weapons. Alistair rose to his feet and they proceeded through another room, and this time there was nowhere else to go. In here was another sarcophagus and a dead templar as well as a pool of water hiding another staircase. 

“I hope you can all hold your breath!” Tanner joked as they waded into the cool water. Most of them nodded and Morrigan rolled her eyes and they swam the short distance into the next part of the ancient temple. Once they reached dry ground, Morrigan waved her arms wide and muttered something, and the party was dry once more. They found themselves in another room, closed off by another heavy stone door. The group pushed it open and peered around carefully. It was too quiet. Aedan spoke his thoughts and before they could even draw their weapons a huge grey werewolf leaped out of the shadows and landed on Sten. The great giant fell to the floor and wrestled with it, attempting to grab its jaw. In the next instant three more leaped out and one made a dash right for the mages. 

Alistair and Aedan charged for the one headed for them and the mages scrambled for cover, Morrigan setting one alight before they did so. Aleta flicked her hand downward and the ceiling collapsed, crushing another werewolf. At the same time it seemed Sten had been the victorious one, when they all heard a sickening smash. He had grabbed the head of the wolf and smacked it hard against the stone floor. Blood pooled around it as well as its brains. Aleta and Leliana gasped and Alistair exclaimed, “Wow!”

This was the last assault they would encounter from these wolves until they went down some stairs. There ahead of them stood three more werewolves, however they did not attack. One stood forward and spoke. The party drew their weapons anyway. “Enough of this, human! We will not attack you or your comrades any longer.” Bitterly he added, “There would be no point.”

Still not taking any chances, Aedan lowered his weapons but did not sheath them. “What is it you want then, beast?” he asked, clearly confused by this sudden change in attitude.

It growled low and it echoed all around the room. Clearly this was not its first preference. “The Lady wishes to parley with you.” 

Aedan looked at the others, more precisely at Aleta, hoping she would be able to divulge who this ‘lady’ was. When she only stared blankly back, Aedan turned his gaze back to the wolf. “Who is this Lady you speak of?”

“She is the guardian of this glade and temple, and we will protect her with our lives.” The werewolf took on a defensive stance. “She believes the Keeper has not told you the whole truth of your mission.”

Aedan was about to reply when Aleta pushed in front of him and demanded, “What kind of things, creature?” 

Aedan glared at her, attempting to push her aside. When she would not move voluntarily he turned to her. “We will get there, Aleta. Relax.” She glared right back but did as he asked, taking a step back with the others. 

The werewolf watched this exchange but did not mention it. “We will not discuss this further until you accept parley.”

What real choice did they have? “We accept.” The werewolf snarled but nodded, opening the door for them. As they were led into the next room they were not surprised to see hordes of werewolves all lined up on either side of the room, snarling but keeping their distance. 

Once the group reached the centre of the room a woman wrapped in vines appeared, touching each werewolf as she made her way to Aedan and the others. At her touch they calmed and kneeled. The Lady, Aedan presumed. Once it was quiet she introduced herself. “Hello, outsiders I am the Lady of the Wood, and you are here at Zathrian’s behest I assume?”

“Yes. Where is Witherfang?” Aedan’s tone was not rude, but he was in no mood to play games. 

The Lady eyed him up and down. “Witherfang is here. Only I have the power to summon him, but I will not do so until you have answered my questions. Tell me, what was your quest outsider?”

“To find and slay Witherfang. His werewolves have infected the elven camp with his disease.” Aedan replied, not liking the advantage she held.

“And do you know why we did this?” With fathomless obsidian eyes, the Lady watched the party carefully.

“Why does not matter when my people are suffering!” Aleta cried angrily. “If you can stop this, than do it!”

The Lady turned to the distressed woman and frowned, taking a step forward. “Your people, you say child? How so? You are human.” 

The fury churned inside Aleta like a storm. “That is no concern of yours, spirit. I was taken in and reared like them, now tell us why Witherfang did this terrible thing!”

The Lady took her time before answering. “How curious… Did you know that your keeper hates humans?” Aleta was not surprised. The Lady continued. “Yes, he does. And not for the reasons you believe. Yes they destroyed the elven heritage, but there is another reason.” 

Aleta was taken aback as she leaned in to listen. “An age ago, Keeper Zathrian was young and full of life. He had two children, a son and daughter. One day humans came to the forest and attacked his clan. They kidnapped his children, tortured and killed his son and raped his daughter. She escaped but upon learning she was with child, killed herself. He was heartbroken and justifiably punished them. He summoned the great spirit, Witherfang to slaughter them and it did so, but because of Zathrian's hate the spirit could not rest. He slaughtered not just the humans that did this deed, but every single human in the camp and cursed them into werewolf form. These werewolves that you see before you,” she gestured to the others around us, “are descendants of those humans, innocent of their forefathers’ crimes.”

Aedan watched and saw a series of emotions played across Aleta’s face. Shock first, anger next then finally sadness. He put a hand on her shoulder as she wiped the stream of tears from her cheeks. 

“It has been centuries since that time and we attacked Zathrian’s clan now because we have finally regained our minds and had hoped if the curse spread to his people he would remove it. We could finally live in peace.” The werewolf that had attacked them at the entrance of the lair, introduced now as Swiftrunner, spoke.

As he processed this new information, Aedan’s thoughts swayed. Were the werewolves really the ones to blame here? How much did Zathrian know? Would he really let his people suffer because of what happened so long ago? It seemed Morrigan had been right – he had been played. The wardens’ mind was made up. “What would you have us do then, Lady?”

She bowed her head. “I see you would consider our point of view, I thank you, warrior. We do not seek vengeance; we want to be free of this curse. Bring Zathrian here, so we can talk about a cure. That is all we ask.”

“And if he will not come?” Aleta’s voice was soft but steady.

“Then we will continue our attack until every last one of his clan has turned into monsters.” Swiftrunner growled. 

Aleta glared at him, standing her ground. “How dare you! I will kill you before you could harm him, beast!” 

But the wolf ignored her and pointed to another direction. “This door will take you directly to the entrance of the temple. Go now, and do not return without the sorcerer.” 

They all turned to leave except for Aleta who stubbornly refused to go. Alistair had to push her to get moving. As they reached the surface he was only a little surprised to see the Keeper pacing around in circles. Aleta, however was completely stunned. “Keeper!” she cried, running to his side. 

Zathrian eyed her incredulously. Then a look of slight distaste crossed his features. Aedan didn’t think Aleta realised, had never realised, but his tone sounded almost wishful as he said, “You did not die?” Anger flared within him, and judging the look on Alistair’s face, within him too. 

“No, and I am sorry for going against your wishes, but I would not leave Deygan. There were so many, Keeper.” 

The old sorcerer put a hand on her shoulder. “Even though you two are betrothed you should have listened to me, d’alen. I have entrusted these warriors with his task and you should have returned to camp. Why have you not done so?”

Aleta looked at the floor, her cheeks flushed. “I was worried for the clan. And I thought there was more to the tale of Witherfang than you wanted to admit.”

Zathrian’s eyes narrowed on her. “How dare you question my motives, d’alen! What I have said was for the clan’s own good.”

“Or was it?” Alistair intervened, turning on Zathrian with a glare. The old sorcerer backed up a little. “Yes, we have spoken with the spirit and she told us about your past, about what you have done.”

Zathrian looked from Aleta to Alistair. Suddenly he looked so much older, the lines of age began to show and Aedan could see the burden he had carried all this time. “You were not there, you did not see what they did to my son, to my daughter! They deserve what they got!” 

“I agree with that part, but what about since then?” Aedan watched as Zathrian pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly annoyed.

“They are mindless beasts, cut from the same cloth! Look what they have done to our clan, d’alen! All they know is death!” The Keeper implored, gripping Aleta's shoulder tightly.

Aleta shook her head. “You are wrong, Keeper. The were’s have regained their minds and they want to talk with you. To explain their plight.”

Now Zathrian really lost his patience. “Ashar’bellanar be damned! You are daft, human. Can you not see the spirit actually is Witherfang? She is using you to lure me down there and will kill me!”

That did it. Even though he barely knew Aleta, Alistair knew that she did not deserve this kind of treatment. Whatever circumstances happened in her past, it had never been in her control. He grabbed the old fool by the front of his robes and lifted him in the air. His eyes nearly popped out of his head and he spluttered, “Put me down! Put me down!”

“How dare you speak to her like that! She’s only trying to help you and all you seem to do is belittle her! Relinquish your tone and I will put you down.” Alistair seethed.

Aleta stared at him, torn between awe and anguish. She put a hand on Alistair’s arm and said, “Leave him, warden. He knows no other way and he suffers more than I.” Even though he was still angry, Alistair did as she asked. She then turned to Zathrian and said, “Keeper, I knew all along that you did not accept me as one of your own, and now I know the true reason. But that does not change the way I feel about you and them. Do this thing for me and I will leave your clan forever.”

The Keeper seemed to think this over. He grabbed her chin and turned her face from side to side, as if looking for something. “You are not elvhen, this is true, but you do possess the heart of one. I will do this for you, d’alen, and you will leave our clan.” 

He then turned to Aedan and the others. “And you will take her with you, protect her as if she were one of your own.” Aleta was about to protest but Zathrian silenced her with the wave of his hand. “A promise was made, d’alen, long before you came to us. Keeper Merathari was entrusted to care for you, and after the Arlathvhen she was going north and could not take you with her. That’s when you came to join us.”

Aleta stared at him, her mouth agape. She shook her head in disbelief. Zathrian turned to Aedan again. “Agreed?” the warden nodded and they proceeded back down into the lair of the werewolves.

Inside the chamber, the Lady and werewolves waited. When they caught sight of Aedan and the others, they howled. Once more she silenced them, then stepped forward to greet Zathrian. “It has been such a long time, Zathrian. I bid you welcome.”

His tone was insolent. “Do not try to charm me, spirit. You wanted to make a point, now get to it!”

Just then Swiftrunner leapt in front of him and roared, “She is the Lady of the Wood! You will treat her with respect!” He then backed off slowly and Zathrian stared incredulously at her. “You have given yourself a name, spirit?”

The Lady shook her head. “No, it was they who gave me a name, Zathrian. They have overcome their feral nature and in turn, helped me to overcome my own. I care for them as they have come to care for me.”

“Preposterous!” he exclaimed. “You are Witherfang, the same spirit I summoned centuries ago, and you are just as savage now as you were then.”

Swiftrunner growled again, and as Aedan saw the veins in his neck throb with rage, he knew there would be a fight very soon. “See! He does not care for our plight! I say we kill him now, tear him apart!”

“No!” came Aleta’s voice, as she leapt protectively in front of Zathrian. “Lady, you must stop him!”

As the Lady grabbed Swiftrunner’s shoulder, he howled and said, “They would protect him even now. Kill them all!” 

“See?!” Zathrian replied angrily, his staff crackling dangerously. “They do not wish to talk, nor do they care for any aid. They are mindless beasts! Help me destroy them, it’s the only way, d’alen!”

Zathrian held out his hand and when Aleta hesitated, he nodded. “Fine. If you are not with me d’alen, I am sorry but you are against me!” Moments later he summoned the very trees surrounding them to come alive and attack the werewolves!

Aedan and his party were everywhere at once. Sten and Alistair ran to hack down an incoming group of sylvans while Leliana and Morrigan provided support. Tanner strategically picked off his targets, slicing and dicing any sylvans that managed to break through the wardens’ siege. Aleta rushed to the Lady’s side and fended off any magical attacks from the Keeper and Aedan ran straight for him, hacking away at his shield he had erected around himself. They were going at this for a while when the Keeper finally called a truce. He was evenly matched. All fighting ceased and Zathrian said between breaths, “You cannot ask me to do this, spirit.”

Incensed, the Lady said, “I know yes, but do these others? Do they know that if the curse breaks so too does your unnaturally prolonged life?”

Aedan looked at Zathrian through new eyes. What a selfish bastard. “His blood would be needed to break this curse that is why the curse is so powerful.”

Aleta gasped. “Blood magic, keeper?”

Zathrian said bitterly, “Such was my hatred. If I die, spirit, so do you. Have you told your pets this?”

The wolves howled in sadness. “Yes. They know what is at stake.” The Lady smiled. “I am ready Zathrian. I have known all emotions possible and have led a long life, now I just wish it to end.”

Alistair saw Aleta slip her hand into Zathrian’s own and whisper, “It is time, Keeper.”

He stroked her hand and sighed, smiling bitter sweetly. “Yes, I know. I’ve known for a long time.” He turned to Aleta and said, “Tell Lanaya I believe she will do our clan proud, and remember what I said earlier about your heart. Dareth shiral, d’alen.” 

Aleta let the tears fall freely as she watched Zathrian summon a bright light and join hands with the Lady of the Wood. Together they slowly faded from sight and then the werewolves do the same, only they did not fade. They transformed into humans.

The human previously known as Swiftrunner spoke gruffly. “Thank you. We are indebted to you all.” 

Aedan put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Go live your life freely, friend.” He nodded and they fled from the chamber. Aedan then turned to the others. “Time to face the music now, eh?”

They said nothing, save for Leliana, who put her arms around Aleta and let the girl sob quietly. “Shhh, it’s over now. Come, we shall take you back to the camp to say your goodbyes.”

A half hour later found the group back in camp and they had relayed all that had transpired to the new keeper, Lanaya. She was sad about Zathrian but knew what she had to do. “Thank you all for your part in saving our people, I would be happy to sign your treaty. You will find no better archers at your back for the fight against the Archdemon.” Aedan shook her hand and they bartered with the bow master before settling down at the campfire, waiting for Aleta to say her goodbyes.

Aleta had much on her mind as she hugged and kissed each of those that cared for her. When she came to Sylaise’s aravel, her heart constricted. Deygan rose from one of the bearskins and smiled in relief. “You made it home safely, emma lath.” He reached for her hands and frowned when he felt them tremble. “What is it?” He brushed a lock of hair from her face and stroked her cheek. “You can tell me anything.”

Aleta cupped the hand in her own and slowly removed it. “I must leave the clan, lethallin. I am not one of you.” 

Deygan moved closer to her and whispered in her ear, “I do not care. We are betrothed. Ma'arlath.” 

Tears ran down her cheeks and she whispered back, “I do not belong, Deygan. I was a debt to the Keeper and I will not let that continue with Lanaya.” She blinked back the tears and said, “Ma vhenan abelas. El lath era. El lath halam. Ar lasa mala reva. Dareth shiral, lethalin.”

“Do not talk this way. If you leave then I will follow you.” He answered stubbornly, shaking his head and reaching for his bow and quiver. “You mean more to me than this clan, Dread Wolf take them and their short-sighted traditions anyhow!”

Aleta looked at him, her heart breaking into a thousand pieces. “Do not say that. You duty is to your clan. Keeper Zathrian often said we must preserve all Dalish heritage. If you come with me you will taint your line and get yourself killed in the process. You will dishonour them and all Zathrian’s work.” She kissed him tenderly, tasting her salty tears. “Stay, lethallin, and make a life here with someone else. Mala suledin nadas.” 

She turned and forced herself to walk instead of run from him. She came and stood by the others, saying to Aedan lifelessly, “Let us go. I am finished here.” And even though he saw the terrible pain she was barely able to suppress, he did not question her.

* * * * *

At the camp site, Aedan thought it would be best to leave Aleta to her own thoughts, Maker knows she’d been through a lot today, and most days before now it would seem. Instead he took a seat beside Alistair and they discussed their next move in gaining more allies.

“Well, like I said before we could probably go see Arl Eamon, I know he’ll hear us out at the very least.” Alistair said, revolving his charred rabbit over the fire. 

Aedan had been curious about that connection for a while, so he asked, “What’s the deal with you and him anyway?”

Alistair sighed and chewed on his meal, swallowed slowly and then decided to answer. “He raised me.”

This piqued Aedan’s interest, considering he knew of Arl Eamon, even saw him a couple of times at King Cailan’s court, though he had never seen Alistair before. “Go on.”

Alistair really didn’t want to talk about this, Aedan could see, but they had been through quite a bit, and there would be more to come and they needed to be able to trust one another. Aedan waited for him to look at him and continue. “As you know, I’m a bastard, and before you have some witty comeback, I’m of the fatherless kind.”

He sighed again. “My mother was from Highever. She was a servant in the Arl’s castle and when she died, for some reason, he took an interest in me.” 

“Wow. Is he your father?” Aedan blurted out, cringing as he realised how incredibly tactless that sounded. 

But it didn’t phase Alistair. “No. I know that much, but his wife, Lady Isolde, was certain that I was, and had me shipped off to the Chantry when I reached ten. She felt her position was threatened, I guess.”

“Ahh,” Aedan said, nodding sympathetically. “Yes, Lady Isolde is known for her irrational mood swings isn’t she?”

Alistair gave him a questioning look. “You say that like you know her, is there something I should know?” When Aedan merely stared back at him expectantly, Alistair rolled his eyes. Poke, poke, poke! Tell me about your life Alistair!” 

The mood had lifted and he was back to his original self, so Aedan laughed with him and played along. “Bring it on, Chantry boy!” 

Aedan punched his arm in jest, Alistair punched back and soon enough it turned into a wrestling match. Aedan grabbed him in a headlock, giving him a noogie and laughed as he pitifully tried to escape. “Ow! Ow! Oi!”

The next thing he knew, Aedan felt a sucker punch to the gut. He released Alistair and gasped for air, clutching his guts. The little sod copped him a good one. Staggering to the side Aedan turned to see Alistair coming at him, fast. Aedan groaned as Alistair tackled him to the ground and had him pinned.

“Haha! Gotcha!” Alistair exclaimed as he applied more pressure. 

Enduring the pain was nothing, Aedan had fought darkspawn wounds tougher than this. Drawing on his willpower he grunted, heaving the ex-templar off him, and reversed the pin. Not bothering to hold back, Aedan accidentally dislocated Alistair’s shoulder on the way down. Aedan was declared the winner after that. 

Lucky for them, Aleta, who had been watching quietly from a distance, was an able healer. Once she had knelt down beside them, she and Alistair were almost nose to nose. The warden blushed as she leaned into him and popped the joint back into place. He didn’t even wince at the pain, just stared at her.

Once the deed was done, Alistair grabbed her arm before she could rise. “Thank-you, Aleta.” He smiled warmly, and Aedan rolled his eyes. Here they were in the middle of a Blight and he was making moves on her. Aedan turned to see her reaction.

Aleta stared at his hand on her arm, then back at him, apparently immune to his charm. She nodded and, removing his hand, walked away and left the wardens staring after her.

“Ouch.” Alistair rubbed his shoulder. “Well if that wasn’t rejection at its best I don’t know what was.”

Aedan shook his head. “You should give her more time if you’re serious. She’s some place else, if you know what I mean. Romance is probably at the bottom of her list.”

Alistair seemed to agree with his fellow warden. “You’re right. But what was the harm? Anyway so are we going to Arl Eamon or not?”

“No. I think we should go to the Circle and conscript the mages. They’re going to be powerful allies, I think. Besides, at the rate you wrestle and fight darkspawn we’ll need more healers!”

Alistair chuckled at nodded. “Alright, the circle it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The elvish translations to Aleta and Deygan’s conversation.
> 
> *** Shem** is the elven slur for human, it means “quick, or fast.”  
>  *** Emma lath** means, “my love.”  
>  *** Lethalin** means, “my friend” and is the term females use to greet male friends while **Lethalan** is the term males use to greet female friends.  
>  *** Ma’arlath** means, “I love you.”  
>  *** Ma vhenan abelas. El lath era. El lath halam. Ar lasa mala reva. Dareth shiral, lethalin** means, “My heart is filled with sorrow. Our love was a dream. Our love is finished. You are now free, farewell.”  
>  *** Mala suledin nadas** means, “Now you must endure.”


	7. The Circle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One week later the wardens and their companions arrive at the Calenhad harbor, ready to cross over to the Circle of Magi. What will Aedan decide to do once he discovers it's overrun by abominations? All cannon belongs to Bioware, Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Six: The Circle

Almost a week later the two wardens and their companions arrived at Lake Calenhad. Leliana sighed as she flopped down on a hill that overlooked the silver tower in the centre of the lake, the Circle of Magi. “It is beautiful, no? Though not as grand as the White Spire back in Val Royeaux, this is still breath taking.”

Alistair dropped his sword down and pulled the shield from his back and came to sit down beside her, his face grim. “Yes, from back here you wouldn’t see all the politics and backstabbing that goes on within. It’s dangerous.” 

Leliana sighed and lay back on her elbows, enjoying the sunshine on her face as the gentle breeze fluttered her copper plait behind her left ear. “That goes on no matter the country, Alistair.”

“True,” the warden replied with an appreciative smile. “But there’s something enchanting about being put in your place by a mage, isn’t there?”

“Is that why you insist on being so stupid?” Morrigan sneered, overhearing their conversation. She grinned when both of them frowned up at her. Aedan, who was hovering alongside the witch, had to laugh. Alistair had walked right into that one. He earned a frown also.

“You’re my one exception, Morrigan, as always,” he replied sarcastically. 

Before she respond with something utterly venemous, Aedan smoothly intervened. “Alright you two, that’ll do. We haven't the time for a verbal sparring match now. I’m sure Loghain and the darkspawn have plans for the tower, and we must channel our energy and wits towards that.” That silenced any further protests, though not the look of enmity they shot one another. The young noble sighed but credited the victory, even though it hardly appeared like one. Leliana rose to her feet and smiled at him, impressed. Aedan exhaled before smiling back and moved aside to let her pass.

The warden led them toward the docks where several small fishing boats were tied, and just as he was about to liberate one, he were stopped by a man. A templar, judging by the insignia on his chest plate. "You! You're not looking to get across to the tower, are you? Because I have strict orders no to let anyone pass!" the templar said, eyeing Aedan and his entourage up and down with a frown.

Aedan swore under his breath as he rummaged through his pack for the treaties. "Actually, yes. I have business with the mages. I am a Grey Warden, and I seek their aid to put an end to the Blight."

The templar crossed his plated arms and stared down at him, obviously not believing him. "Oh, you're a Grey Warden, are you? Prove it."

The noble gave the arrogant templar a polite but tight smile as he handed the scrolls over. "I have treaties here obligating the Circle to render aid."

"These prove nothing, you could be bandits for all I know!" the templar spat, barely skimming over the ancient parchment.

Jovey growled and Aedan snatched the scrolls from the templar, shoving them back into the knapsack then rounded on the man, his patience wearing thin. "I warn you, we have travelled a long way to get here, and are in no mood for games. Take us to the tower or stand aside." Sten grunted in approval somewhere behind him, but Aedan barely noticed.

The templar stumbled back. "Look, I..I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just trying to do my job. I'll take you right now, just like you wanted."

"Thank you. I'll be sure to mention your cooperation to your superior," Aedan replied, stepping into the small boat, Alistair and Leliana, the templar and the mabari following suit. Sten, Morrigan, Aleta and Tanner entered the adjacent one.

The journey across the lake was quiet and quick, the templar nervously kept his gaze on the water. Alistair and Leliana fought hard to suppress a grin. In the other boat Tanner looked as if he was trying to do the same. Aleta appeared to be lost in thought while Sten and Morrigan sat in silence. 

Soon they had reached the tower. Aedan and his companions exited the boat quickly and made their way to the great iron doors. Aedan barely took noticed of the intricate patterns that glowed, and instead pushed the gates open. He was immediately on edge when he heard shouting within, however. When they walked through the door, it was utter chaos. They could see the Knight Commander talking to one of his templars. Aedan waited until they had stopped talking before he decided to address the older man. "Greetings, Knight Commander. What has happened here?"

"Who are you? I explicitly told Carroll not to bring anyone across the lake! We're dealing with a very delicate situation. You must leave, for your own safety!" he demanded, eyeing the group closely.

"My name is Aedan Cousland sir, of the Grey Wardens. I am here because of the obligation the mages have with the wardens," Aedan replied respectfully, bowing low.

Sighing, the Knight Commander replied, "I grow weary of the Grey Wardens' ceaseless need of men to fight the darkspawn, but it is their right.” The Knight Commander drew his grey bushy eyebrows together seriously. “You'll find no allies here. The templars can spare no men, the mages are... indisposed.” He leaned off to the side, muttering something to another of the templars who appeared to be injured. The Knight Commander nodded before turning his attention back to the warden. “I shall speak plainly. The tower is no longer under our control. Abominations and demons stalk the tower's halls. The Circle is lost. The tower has fallen."

"Demons? This is bad,” he muttered to Aedan. The newer warden had to agree. This was very bad news.

“Perhaps we can help?" Leliana urged, indicating the rest of the group. “We are more equipped to deal with a horde of abominations. We must try to resolve this peacefully before - ”

The Knight Commander shook his head, cutting her off mid-sentence. "I have sent word to Denerim, calling for reinforcements. And the Right of Annulment."

"The Right of Annulment? What does that mean?" Aedan asked, confused as he saw Alistair’s face fall.

"The Right of Annulment gives templars the authority to neutralise the mage Circle. Completely. This situation is dire. There is no alternative, everything in the tower must be destroyed so it can be made safe again," the Knight Commander explained. He looked just as upset about this as Leliana.

Aedan realised what he was saying and his heart grew heavy. They were going to purge the place. "Surely not all the mages are dead. Allow my comrades and I to look for survivors, before you use the Right of Annulment." Aedan asked hopefully. This plea earned him an encouraging smile from Leliana and a subtler one from Aleta.

The Knight Commander's greying brows furrowed deeper as he shook his head. "I assure you, an abomination is a force to be reckoned with, and you will face more then one."

"After all the creatures we have already fought, abominations are nothing. Darkspawn, ghosts, werewolves, undead, baby dragons, the list goes on." Aedan pressed, trying to assure him.

The Knight Commander stared at him for a long time before finally conceeding. It seemed he also wanted to avoid more bloodshed. "If you should succeed, then I will owe you much. Enough that I would pledge my templars to your cause.” He looked at each of them solemnly. “But a word of caution - once you cross the threshold, there is no turning back. The great doors must remain barred. I will open them for no one until I have proof it is safe."

"What do you mean by 'proof'?" Morrigan demanded, clearly not liking the idea of being trapped.

"I will only believe it is over, if the First Enchanter himself stands before me and tells me it is so. If Irving has fallen... then all is lost, and the Circle must be destroyed," he replied, meeting her irate, amber stare unflinchingly.

"That will not be necessary,” Alistair said quickly. “We will find this Irving, and we will save the Circle."

The Knight Commander nodded. "Then may Andraste lend you her courage."

After witnessing the carnage at his castle, Aedan had seen his share of death, but what lay behind those doors appalled even him. It was a massacre. Mage corpses lay torn and bloodied, blood still poured from some of the wounds. There was innards and bodily waste smeared over the walls and toppled furniture. Even Morrigan was disgusted. It wasn't until they reached the end of the hallway that they heard signs of life. 

They proceeded with caution in the direction of the commotion. Aedan saw an old woman about to attack what he assumed to be an abomination. She cast some sort of spell, freezing it solid, before casting another spell which obliterated the abomination. It was then that she turned and saw the engrossed group. "Who are you? What are you doing here? If you try and harm us, I will strike you down where you stand!" the woman said adamantly, raising her staff in an offensive stance.

"Calm yourself! I am not here to harm anyone, unless you are an abomination.” Aedan replied, keeping a distance between them. “I am Aedan, of the Grey Wardens. I am here to rescue First Enchanter Irving, and any other survivors I can. May I ask who you are?" He added, realising the danger had passed, if only for the moment.

The woman thought about this for a moment, then lowered her staff. "I am Wynne, one of the Circle mages.” She watched each one of them acutely, as if trying to assess any and all threats they might be. Her eyes lingered on Sten and Morrigan, unable to read them. Once satisfied she turned back to Aedan. “Saving mages is surely not the kind of work Grey Wardens would usually do. What is your true goal? The templars would not just let anyone by, warden or no."

"I need help from the Circle, in order to stop the Blight. The mages have an obligation to help the Grey Wardens." Aedan replied with a small smile, grateful she wasn't going to blow him up, or worse.

"And I suppose you were told that the Circle was in no shape to help you. So why did the templars let you in? Do they plan to attack the tower now?" Wynne asked expectantly, beginning to pace backwards and forwards.

"No. The Knight Commander is waiting for reinforcements, and the Right of Annulment," the warden replied, looking around the rest of the room. Only now, did he realise she had been protecting children and other mages. No wonder she was so feisty.

"So Greagoir thinks the Circle is lost?” She said more to herself. “He probably assumes we're all dead. They abandoned us to our fate, but even trapped as we are, we have survived. If they invoke the Right however, we won't be able to stand against them." Wynne said, dismay showing on her face.

"What in Andraste's dimpled arse-cheek happened here?” Tanner spoke up for the first time since arriving. “How did the Circle become overrun with abominations?”

Alistair nodded in agreement before adding, “Surely it was not like this before Ostagar? We saw mages there. In fact, I spoke with one of them." 

Wynne looked at them blankly for a moment, before saying with a dark look, "Let it suffice to say we had something of a revolt on our hands, led by a mage named Uldred.” Her face screwed up, as though the very mentioning of this mage’s name was an offence. “When he returned from the battle at Ostagar, he tried to take over the Circle. As you can see, it didn't quite work out as he planned. I don't know what became of Uldred, but I am certain all of this was his doing. I will not lose the Circle to one man's stupidity and pride."

"Then we need to find this Uldred, and mess up his day." Tanner said darkly, crossing his arms. “This,” he said gesturing to the room around them, “this ain’t right. Kids don’t need to be seeing this kind of depravity.”

She smiled at him then, and pointed to the doorway behind her. "My thoughts exactly, young man. I erected a barrier over the door leading to the rest of the tower, so nothing from inside could attack the children. You will not be able to enter as long as the barrier holds, but I will dispel it if you agree to take me with you and save the Circle."

Aedan beamed, this was a very good idea. "That would please me greatly," the young noble replied and bowed before her, smiling brilliantly.

Wynne smiled back, her eyes crinkling at the corners and Aedan could see he’d won her over. "Good. Once Greagoir sees that we have made the tower safe, I trust he will tell his men to back down. He is not unreasonable," Wynne replied thoughtfully.

"Yeah, about that, Greagoir said that only if Irving stands before him and tell him the Tower is safe, will he call his men off. So I suggest we go now." Tanner told her. Wynne nodded and turned to the door, and after a few moments, the barrier disappeared.

Morrigan, ever the voice of selfishness, decided to throw her two cents in. "You want us to assist this preachy schoolmistress? To rescue these pathetic excuses for mages? They allow themselves to be corralled like cattle, mindless. Now their masters have chosen death for them and I say we let them have it."

Turning to her, Aedan stared in disbelief. "Morrigan, this could have happened to you if things were different. Have you no empathy for their plight?"

Morrigan scoffed. "If that were so, I would have flung myself from the very top of this tower years ago! I would have never allowed either my mind nor body to be subjugated in such a dehumanising fashion."

Taking a step forwards, Tanner interjected, "Flinging yourself off the top of the tower? That can be arranged, my pretty.”

Morrigan stood there staring incredulously at him for a few seconds, before she opened her mouth to say something. Thinking better of it, she closed her mouth and stormed off ahead. Alistair was failing miserably at stifling his giggles, until Tanner glared at him also. Then he regained control of himself. Aedan found himself wondering why the normally jovial rogue had burred up. He decided that thought would have to be addressed another time. He just hoped Morrigan wouldn’t become a problem further in. "At any rate we must make haste. Wynne, would you be so kind as to lead the way?"

They followed her through a few rooms, meeting no resistance, until they came to what looked like a library. There they were attacked by some abominations, but unlike the shades they fought in the forest, they could actually hit and kill these things. Aedan struck out at the nearest one to him, catching it off guard. He ducked as it swung its arms at his head, it was then he noticed the razor sharp talons it had for fingers. 

As it attacked again, Aedan raised his shield. The talons came down on the face of the shield, actually slicing into the metal. The warden brought his sword straight up, slicing through the abominations arms. At the same time however, one of the other creatures slammed into him from behind, knocking him to the ground. The warden lost his grip on the sword and shield, so he scrambled back trying to find something to use. His hand found the abomination's severed arm, he saw the one armed creature charging towards him. Aedan brought the severed hand straight up under the creature's chin, driving the hand as hard as he could into its head. 

With a deafening roar, the abomination fell to the ground, blood spraying from where the hand exited the head. He looked around for the sword and shield, picked them up and attacked the next creature. Soon after, all abominations lay dead, most of the group covered in blood and other matter, except for Aleta, Morrigan and Wynne.

Morrigan turned to Aleta, her tone virulent. "Did you actually do any fighting at all, girl? There is barely a mark on you.” Aleta ignored her. “Tis as I thought. What use are you to us if you can’t even fight? No wonder your elven ‘people’ cast you out,” Morrigan jeered. 

Aedan was sure she was trying to get a rise out of Aleta. She’d succeeded, but to what end? Aleta turned, a strange aura surrounding her, and faced Morrigan. “What of it? You also do not have a mark on you. Neither does Wynne. Does that make her useless also?” Her staff crackled and fizzed violently. “And that is the last time you will speak of my people like that, witch.” Aleta amended furiously, taking a step towards Morrigan. 

It may have been Aedan’s imagination, but Morrigan seemed to take a step back. Then Aleta looked around at the rest of the group, as if to silently challenge them to agree with Morrigan. When none of them spoke up she gripped her staff tighter and turned to walk away. 

Alistair took a step towards Morrigan, saying scornfully, “You know, you have such a way with people. It’s not at all surprising that you get along better with animals. Your manners make you one yourself.” Morrigan was stunned as he walked off after Aleta.

He caught up with her near the end of the library. “Are you okay?” Alistair asked her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Aleta sighed. “Yes, I’m fine. I just... I cannot stand that foul woman! How did she come to be in your company?”

Alistair groaned, sharing her opinion wholeheartedly. “I know right? Well short story is she and her mother saved us after the battle of Ostagar. We were given little choice about taking Morrigan with us. If it makes you feel any better, you aren’t the only one who can’t stand her,” he said, laughing. This made Aleta smile. “If she gives you any more grief, just turn her into a toad or something. Actually, knowing Morrigan, she’d probably enjoy that.” Alistair said, making Aleta laugh. His sky-blue eyes twinkled as he resisted the urge to caress her face. “Aww there you go, a laugh at last.”

“If she were in Par Vollen, the witch would be bound in chains, and her tongue removed. The Qunari people do not usually allow our mages to walk free.” Sten's gruff voice echoed from the library doorway, no expression readable on his face. For a man of his height and stature, he could be quite the sleuth. 

Alistair jumped, he hadn’t heard the Qunari enter the room. “Well that might be the preferable consensus. I can’t say I wouldn’t want to see that,” he chuckled. He turned to see if Aleta got the joke and when he saw her watching the giant intensely, he got the feeling that he had missed something. Sten was watching her too. He crossed the wide gap between them and motioned for her to follow him to the party. “Ignore the witch, her arrogance will be her undoing. Come.”

Alistair watched, stunned, as Aleta allowed him to escort her back to the rest of the group. The warden stared at the giant’s great muscular back and scowled.

Aedan and the others watched incredulously as the three emerged from the library. His eyes narrowed on Allistair's murderous expression but decided they should continue. “Now, how about we keep moving, and secure the rest of the tower?” 

The party nodded in agreement and kept moving until they reached the second floor. Just as they walked through it, they heard a voice. “Please refrain from going into the stockroom. It is a mess and I have not been able to get it into a state fit to be seen.” Aedan and Alistair turned to see a bald man with a tattoo of a golden sun in the middle of his forehead, standing in a small room off to the side.

“Who are you?” Aedan asked, curious about the brand in the middle of his brows.

“I am Owain, and I manage the Circle’s magical stockroom. I was trying to tidy up, but there is little I can do,” the man replied in a strange monotone.

Aedan looked at him, baffled. “But why would you be trying to clean at a time like this?”

“The stockroom is my responsibility. I must keep it clean. I tried to leave, when things were quiet. That was when I encountered the barrier. Finding no other way out, I returned to work,” Owain replied, his singular voice echoing off the high ceiling and cold stone walls.

Wynne sighed, exasperated. “Owain, you should have said something, I would have opened the door for you.”

Owain turned to her. “The stockroom is familiar. I prefer to be here.”

Aedan was confused. “How can you be so calm with everything that’s happened here?”

Wynne sighed again, and explained paitently. “He is one of the Tranquil. The Tranquil have no emotions.”

“I would prefer not to die. I would prefer it if the tower returned to the way it was. Perhaps Niall will succeed, and save us all.” Owain commented.

This got the wardens’ attention. “Succeed in what?” Aedan and Alistair asked in unison.

“I do not know, but he came here with several others, and took the Litany of Adralla.” Owain replied, looking from Aedan to Allistair.

Wynne seemed confused. “But the Litany protects from mind domination. Was blood magic involved?”

“I do not know.” Owain replied.

Wynne turned to the wardens. “Niall was at the meeting. He would know. Blood magic… I was afraid of this.”

Blood magic… He might not know much in the ways of the mages, but he did know about blood magic. It was evil, forbidden. If there was corruption within these halls he would root it out and destroy it before others were forced to pay the price for others' mistake. “That changes nothing. We can still save the tower.” Aedan replied stubbornly, determined to see this through.

“You don’t understand. Blood magic could control us, too. Who knows what could happen then? We should find Niall. The Litany will give us a fighting chance against any blood mages we encounter.” Wynne replied, not exactly arguing with his decision, but definitely worried.

“I wish you luck. Perhaps this will be over soon, and things will return to the way they were.” Owain concluded.

The wardens and Wynne bid Owain farewell, and left him to his cleaning. They made their way through the door at the other end of the room, where they encountered a group of mages. They were incredibly hostile, and Aedan could only assume that they were one of the blood mages. As the enemy attacked, Wynne and Aleta both erected barriers around the group, which prevented any sorcery from hurting them. With the barriers surrounding them, the others quickly dispatched all but one of the mages. She lay on the floor begging for her life.

“Please! Please, don’t kill me!” she pleaded pathetically, trying to crawl backwards away from them, meeting only a wall.

“Why shouldn’t we? What about the people you killed? Where was their mercy?” Tanner demanded, taking a step towards her, a maddening glint in his eye. He reached for his belt and gripped the dagger resting on it.

“I know I have no right to ask for mercy, but I didn’t mean for all this death and destruction. We were just trying to free ourselves!” The young woman saw what he was doing and she began to sob uncontrollably. “Uldred told us that the Circle would support Loghain, and Loghain help us be free of the Chantry. You don’t know what it was like. The templars were watching… always watching.”

Aedan shook his head. “Did you even think before you decided to take matters into your own hands? What about the consequences of your actions? Not just for you, but for all mages? You idiots, in all your haste, have just made things worse!”

“We thought… we thought someone had to take the first step. To force a change, no matter the cost,” she sobbed desperately.

“Nothing is worth what you’ve done to this place,” Wynne added in disgust.

The young mage seemed to ignore what Wynne had said. “And now Uldred has gone mad, and we are scattered, doomed to die at the hands of those who seek to right our wrongs.”

“You made your choice, your plan failed. And now you lay there, wallowing in self pity. You are pathetic.” Tanner told her, letting his own disgust show. “May the maker have mercy on you, for I won’t.”

The mage jumped to her feet, trying to cast a spell, but she was too slow. Tanner stepped forward and pulled the dagger from his belt. She gasped as the blade entered her chest, piercing her heart. As she drew her last breath, Tanner lowered her to the floor, pulling the dagger out and wiping the blood off without remorse. There was most certainly a story there, Aedan found himself thinking. 

He reattached the dagger to his belt and nodded to the wardens, silently thanking them for not interfering. They continued on through to the second floor, checking each room as they went. They fought more abominations along the way, cutting them down quickly, even coming across some undead, corpses that had been summoned back to life. So to speak. 

After dealing with them, the group met no further resistance. Wynne led them to the First Enchanters room. While the others made sure the rest of the floor was safe, Aedan had a look around to see if there were any clues as to where Uldred may be. Instead he found a book, a very old, thick and dusted tome. He blew the collected dust aside and opened it. Thumbing through a few pages he saw different spells, ingredients and further in a picture of a woman with dark black hair, kinked in white and black waves. He looked closer and thought that this woman looked a little like Morrigan, especially those amber eyes, haunting, knowing eyes. He looked up at the woman now, and his eyes widened to see she was staring back. She looked down at the tome he was holding and an intrigue raise of her eyebrow told him she knew what he had in his hands. He slammed the book shut and stashed it in his pack, smiling in satisfaction with the knowledge that she would now come and try to talk to him, even if her sole goal was only to have the tome for herself. 

Aedan joined the party at the stairs leading to the third floor. When they stepped through the door at the top of the stairs, they appeared to be in a hall of some kind. The group were immediately attacked by more of the undead, and an arcane horror. Great, more of this bloody things, he thought. 

While the three mages dealt with the horror, the rest fought the undead. It wasn’t as easy as Aedan had hoped, after all they were racing against the clock here, these things felt no pain. After a great deal of frustration, the wardens and their comrades killed, or re-killed the corpses, and the horror. 

In the next room they were attacked by more abominations. The next few rooms were the same, abominations, corpses, shades, even possessed templars. With all these enemies, Aedan realised they must be getting close to something important. In one of the rooms, he found a templar and what looked like a female demon. It appeared to talking to the templar. As they moved further into the room, Aedan could hear the demon. “Everything is just as you wanted, my knight. Our love and our family is more then you hoped for.”

“What the hell is going on here?” Aedan demanded, repulsed by the image of this demon.

“Do you hear something, love?” the templar replied, clearly ensorcelled. 

“It is nothing, my darling, just the door. I will get it. The children have finished supper. Tuck them into bad, while I see who it is,” the demon replied.

“Don’t be long, the children will want to kiss you goodnight,” the templar replied. Aedan felt a ripple of disgust course through him and fought the urge to vomit.

“I will be but a moment, my pet.” Turning to the trespassers, she said, “You are intruding upon a loving, intimate moment, and I dislike disruptions,” the demon said testily.

“What the hell have you done to that man?” Aedan demanded again.

The demon smirked, saying smugly, “Happiness is bewitching. There is a certain power in all things mortals delight in. I have given him what he always wanted. Where is the harm in that?” It turned back to the templar, touching his face, almost lovingly.

Aedan considered this for a moment. “But it’s all a lie. How can you justify this, making him believe all this?”

Without turning to face him, the demon replied, “All emotion is intangible. You cannot see it, cannot grasp it.”

“But it is normally caused by something real. Real events, real people. What you have done to him is… is abhorrent,” Wynne said.

The demon considered Wynne for a moment before replying, “I saw his loneliness and longing for a family that loved him.”

Leliana spoke up this time. She stepped up to where Aedan was standing, placed her hand on his shoulder and said, “She is feeding off his innermost desires and taking away his will. This… this is unholy.”

The demon answered. “No one else would ever know his heart. He did not know it himself.”

“This is not love, you’ve made him your slave.” Aedan disagreed, but he couldn’t help but see a small amount of logic in what the demon was saying.

“I fulfil his dreams, I grant him all his desires. Is he my slave, or am I his? We are partners. I give him what no one else can, and through him, I experience what it feels like to be mortal,” the demon replied. It then glided over to Aedan, studying him for a moment. “You have lost loved ones. A mother and father, brother, sister-in-law and nephew. Would you not give anything to see them again? To be happy with them?” It asked.

Aedan struggled with his emotions, unnerved that this ungodly thing could perceive so much. “No. What you offer me and what you have done to this man, is not happiness! This ends now!” He replied, drawing his sword as he did so. 

The demon ran back over to the bewitched templar. “Help! There are bandits at the door! They are going to murder the children!” it cried. That bitch! She’s going to use the templar to fight us, he thought angrily.

“They will not get past me!” the templar exclaimed. Upon saying that, he charged. For the sake of the templar, innocent in all this, Aedan went after him first, intending to give him a quick death. Aedan did not expect him to be stronger then he was, though he guessed that was because of the demon. 

The two parried each other’s blows, neither of them gaining an advantage. That was until Alistair and Tanner wounded the demon. With a shriek of pain, it staggered back. The templar turned to see what happened, letting out an enraged cry as he saw Alistair raise his sword for the final blow. Aedan grabbed the templar and turned him around, bringing his sword up into his chest, killing him instantly.

“Rest in peace, templar. Go to the Makers side,” Aedan muttered in his ear as he fell. Aedan looked up to see that the demon must have summoned undead warriors to defend her. As Sten, Aleta, Wynne and Morrigan fought the undead, Alistair, Tanner and Leliana had killed the demon. After the battle was done, Leliana knelt over the fallen templar and prayed. 

Both wardens looked around to see Sten and Aleta whispering their own versions of prayer and when the others were ready, they walked through the final door. When they did, Aedan saw a demon standing over the corpse of a mage. It appeared to be an abomination, but upon closer inspection, he realised this was no ordinary abomination. Turning to face the intruders, it said, “Oh look, visitors. I’d entertain you, but… too much effort involved.”

Cousland looked to the body at his feet. “Who is he, and what have you done to him?” he demanded.

The monstrous being looked down slowly at the mage then back to the wardens. “He is just resting, poor lad. He was so very, very weary. You want to join us, don’t you? Wouldn’t you like to just lay down and… forget about all this? Leave it all behind?” the abomination replied. 

All of a sudden a wave of exhaustion washed over them, and they could barely stand. The others felt the same effects, but it was only Wynne who spoke. “Resist, we must resist. Or else all is lost,” she urged, struggling to finish the sentence.

Aedan struggled to step forward, then the creature stepped forward itself. “Why do you fight? You deserve more. You deserve to rest. The world will go on without you.” 

Then darkness fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone still here from inception! This chapter was very tough to write, and I hope you're enjoying it.


	8. Nightmares of the Fade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sloth has the wardens ensorcelled, and they are powerless to resist. Or are they? All cannon belongs to Bioware, Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Seven: The Fade

When Aedan awoke, everything was hazy and had an amber glow. He felt… light, like he was floating though his feet were touching the ground. It was strange and a little unnerving. Looking around, he recognised the stone fortress of Ostagar, where he'd undergone the Joining. How did he get here? The warden walked along the empty hall, until he found a staircase. Upon reaching the top, he had to rub his eyes to make sure this was real. He saw Duncan standing in the centre of the room, along with a few wardens.

“Ah, there you are. I’m not sure disturbing you, am I?” Duncan asked with a smile.

Aedan blinked, confused. “You’re dead. You died at the battle of Ostagar, when Loghain turned his back on the king, and left you both to die!”

Duncan laughed. “Dead? Me? Hah! I have been close many times, but never quite made it all the way, my friend. I just wanted to make sure you happy here. These grand halls were built by the first Grey Wardens. Isn’t it breathtaking?”

Aedan shook his head, trying to make sense of all this but he felt woozy. “The darkspawn, they are still out there. The Blight is still a threat. We are not finished!”

Duncan stared at him intensely. “The darkspawn are gone, remember? You were at the last great battle. It was a triumph for all of us, bringing down the Archdemon and setting the underground lairs ablaze.”

Aedan's thoughts were heavy and every time he sensed doubt clawing in the back of his mind he felt more pressure. He drew his brows together and sifted through his thoughts, it was a slow process. Flashes here and there of the darkspawn, fire raging, a castle, a familiar face he called brother echoed and suddenly Aedan realised what was wrong. This was a lie. “No! That’s not possible. I was searching for something, for someone...” he said slowly.

Duncan stepped forward, his fists clenched at his sides, angry. “Foolish child! I have given you so much, and yet you cast it back in my face. Can you not be content with the peace I offer?” Duncan outstretched his arms, motioning for Aedan to turn his gaze. There stood his mother and father waiting off to the side. Eleanor waved to him and the young noble felt a rush of happiness followed by a pang of sorrow. It was so good to see them again, tears started welling in his eyes. As he looked at them however, something didn’t seem right. Aedan slowly walked over to them, but never seemed to get close enough. Then Bryce and Eleanor seemed to flicker before disappearing completley.

He turned back to Duncan, and strode over, sword drawn. “No. You are not real. The darkspawn are not dead, the Archdemon remains undefeated. The Blight is still a threat!”

Duncan – or whatever the apparition was, drew its sword as well. “It seems only war and death will satisfy you. So be it! Have your war and your darkspawn! May they be your DOOM!”

As the apparition of Duncan launched into a flurry of attacks, Aedan struggled to raise his shield or parry his attacks each time. Duncan did not seem to feel the same effects of a normal man. Then it occurred to the young noble. That abomination. I remember it now, the feeling of exhaustion. This must be no more than a dream, my dream. And if that is the case…

Aedan lowered his shield and watched Duncan carefully. As he went to swing his own sword again, it seemed that time slowed down. The younger man stepped to his left as Duncan’s blade sliced through the air, missing his target by mere inches. Aedan brought his own sword up, and sliced across Duncan’s throat. 

As the apparition fell, Aedan turned his attention to the other two wardens, cutting them down quickly. After they were all dead, a pedestal of some kind appeared behind where Duncan had stood. As he got close to it, there was a bright flash, and Aedan was transported to another area. Standing in this new area was a lone mage.

“Who are you? Where did you come from? Are you a demon?” the mage asked cautiously, then he focused on Aedan for a few seconds. “No… I see that you’re not. You’re like me. Congratulations on getting out of that trap.”

The warden studied the mage for a few seconds. I’ve seen this man before he thought, then it hit him. His was the body lying at the abomination’s feet. Then he realised the others may be trapped here also. “Yes, I am glad to be free of that place, but I came here with friends, could they be trapped her too?” 

The mage studied him for a moment. “You came here with friends? Then yes, they would be trapped here. The demon traps everything that comes here, in a dream it thinks they can’t, or won’t try to leave.” The mage looked bitterly out into the abyss. “I thought I’d escaped too, but I’ve been wandering these empty, grey spaces for a lifetime.”

“How did you end up trapped here?” Aedan asked him, eager for any information he could gather of this place.

“Through sheer stupidity, or perhaps very, very bad luck. My name’s Niall, by the way. I was trying to save the Circle when I encountered the sloth demon. I expect our experiences were similar,” he replied dejectedly.

Niall. He’s the one with the Litany Aedan thought. “We met a man named Owain in the stockroom, on our way up. He mentioned you, and the Litany.”

This seemed to lighten Niall’s mood, if only for a second. “Owain helped me greatly. I suppose I’ll never be able to repay him. The Litany was to be our greatest weapon against the blood mage's domination, but it’s too late. Everyone’s dead…”

“I need to find my friends. Is there a way out of here?” Aedan pressed, refusing to believe this was the end of the line. Loghain would not win. Howe would not win.

Niall shook his head, sighing heavily. “No, there is no way out of here. You think there might be, but you’d be wrong.” He turned to an area of the Fade not too far from where they were. “You see that pedestal over there? I’ve been studying the runes on it. The runes signify different islands of the sloth demon’s domain. The sloth demon itself is on the centre island, but you can’t get there.” Then he turned back to the black emptiness. “The five islands around the centre somehow form a protective ward. I thought I was getting somewhere when I figured that out, and when I went to each island in turn only to have my hopes dashed. There is always an obstacle. You’ll see the path, but be unable to get to it, and it taunts you and drives you mad.”

This is getting me nowhere! Aedan thought, frustrated. “Look Niall. I need to find a way out of here, and find my friends. Now, could they be on one of those islands?”

Niall seemed to snap out of his gloomy reverie. “I… I don’t know. There are many dreamers. You might find a way to reach them through the islands. If you’re lucky.”

Aedan thanked him and walked away. He kept walking until he came across a purple swirlling portal. With a hesitant step forward he walked through it and felt his insides quiver. That was not normal. The moment he was on the other side, he was attacked by a molten rage demon. Cursing his bad luck, he lashed out with his sword, cutting it. The demon let out a screech of pain, and Aedan lashed out again, this time slicing through its head. As the demon faded, he saw a mouse lying on the ground. 

As he neared it, he heard a voice. “Thank you, but it is too late for me.” 

Aedan looked around, not seeing anything that could have spoken, before realising that it had to have been the mouse. As he looked down at it, the mouse continued. “Kill Yevenna, the demoness that rules here. She protects her master… Sloth. There’s a door! A door only demons can see. The key must be in another realm. Take my power. Save others trapped in nightmares. Kill the demons that guard Sloth.” As the mouse drew its last breath, Aedan felt a strange power wash over him. He would never get used to the sensation.

The warden eventually found what looked like a mouse hole. As he got closer to it, everything suddenly got larger and he felt himself shrink rapidly as a sense of vertigo took hold. Aedan quickly realised he had somehow become a mouse, and fought the urge to vomit. He crawled through the mouse hole, and noticed another demon in the distance. As he got further away from the hole he felt the vertigo return - he must’ve been transformed into his human self. It was then the demon noticed him. 

With a shrill cry, it lunged forward. Aedan attacked, hard and fast, soon killing the demon. He saw another portal in the background, so he walked over to it and stepped through. On the other side, the warden was attacked by three more demons. As he fought them, he noticed yet another portal behind them. When Aedan stepped through this portal, he noticed he was back where he started. This was an absurd maze and he did not relish navigating it.

Niall was still waiting where he had been before. Turning to Aedan with surprise, he said, “Something happened, didn’t it? You look a little different. What happened?”

Aedan stared at him, wondering if maybe he’d given the poor bastard some sliver of hope. “I slaughtered some demons, and was given the ability to turn into a mouse. By a… talking mouse,” he answered hesitantly, still not quite sure what to make of everything that had happened so far.

“Did you? Did it help? I know I saw the tiny holes. Were you small enough to get through?” Niall asked excitedly.

Aedan nodded. “Yes, I was small enough. It seems that when I get close to a mouse hole, I automatically get turned into the mouse form, not something I'd recommend by the way, but when I get further away from the hole, I revert to my human form. It feels quite strange, Niall.”

The excitement seemed to drain from Niall quickly. “You’re so much braver then I am. I was so sure it was impossible to get anywhere. Do you think you could learn other forms? Maybe they could help you get to places you otherwise couldn’t.” He then appeared to go into some sort of trance, like he was deeply lost in thought. 

After failing to get his attention a few times, Aedan walked over to the pedestal again. This time he was transported to an area full of corpses. After travelling through a few mouse holes, he came across a room with darkspawn in it. Either they were getting weaker, or the warden was somehow getting stronger, because he was able to kill these few with little effort. 

When he entered the next room, he was attacked by more of them. Aedan killed the first two easily, the emissary took a bit more effort. After it unsuccessfully tried casting a few spells, it tried to get in close. That was where it made its first and last mistake. With the darkspawn lying dead, Aedan noticed yet another mouse hole. Maker, how many of these bloody things are there?

Venturing through this mouse hole, Aedan was attacked by more darkspawn. He killed them just as quickly as the others. Going through another mouse hole, he ended up in a room with what appeared to be darkspawn spirits. There was also a templar spirit hiding behind a pillar, but as the warden approached the templar, the darkspawn spirits attacked. With the templar’s help, they defeated the spirits.

“They’re gone! You did it, you killed them,” the templar said in amazement. “But not all of them, their leaders are behind the unbreakable door. I give you my wisdom, it will let you see. And now I wake,” he said, disappearing as he did so. What the hell did he mean ‘it will let you see?’See what? Aedan wondered. Just then another pedestal appeared and he approached it cauitiously, expecting some more darkspawn jump out and attack him, and was once again transported somewhere else.

The warden was transported back to where Niall was once again, but this time he was transformed into some kind of spirit. As confused as he was, Aedan looked around, and finally noticed a door that wasn’t there before. This must be what he meant! There must be doors that are hidden to everything but spirits. Fighting the mixed feelings of confusion and fear, the young warden stepped through this new door. In this new area, he was confronted by a demon. Aedan realised this must have been the demon the mouse had spoken of, Yevena.

Not wasting any time with conversation, it attacked. At the same time, it summoned other creatures in an attempt to flank him. They did not succeed, as Aedan was ready for them. Striking out with his shield, the warden managed to stun Yevena long enough to deal with her minions. They appeared to be the same demons he and the others fought in the Brecillian Forest. Fade demons Aedan thought Aleta called them. He cursed the Maker for his bad luck and charged.

Those that fought with hand-to-hand combat hadn’t been able to hit them then, only the mages had been able to cause them damage, but seeing as how this was the Fade, Aedan was able to cause significant damage. Just as the last of the minor demons fell, Yevena had recovered. With a shrill cry, she lunged at the warden. He raised his sword and thrust it forward as she got close. With all her momentum, his blade pierced her chest easily. As the blade exited her back, she looked up at Aedan and let out a low groan, which turned into her dying breath. After he pulled the sword from her corpse, he saw another of the spirit doors.

This door transported him to a new area, one that was filled with flames. After walking the halls and opening a few doors, Aedan could feel an incredible amount of heat coming from one of the doors that he had passed. He cautiously entered, where he was immediately attacked by two burning templars. 

While trying to avoid the flames already in the room, Aedan had to keep out of the templar’s reach. Even their weapons were on fire, if one of them connected he would’ve been in serious trouble. After what seemed like forever, he managed to defeat them with only a few scorch marks on his armor. As Aedan journeyed further down the hall, he saw the path was blocked by a wall of flame. He entered the room beside him, only to be attacked by more burning templars. After defeating them, the warden used the staircase that was at the back of the room.

Aedan noticed there were flaming mabari here. They seemed to notice him at the same time. He had no sooner dealt with them, then more templars and mabari appeared. When he had killed them, Aedan walked down one of the halls only to find flames blocking the path on both sides. It was then he noticed the mouse hole at the end of the hall. When he exited, he saw what appeared to be a dreaming templar, and one of those fire demons. When the warden killed the demon and wounded the templar, he stopped attacking.

“The anger is fading. I am free. Take Rhagos’ power, use it and BURN him! Burn them all. He guards Sloth, he bars the way. You must destroy the door… other dreamers, other powers… only way...” then he disappeared in a ball of flame.

When Aedan looked down at his body, he noticed flames now covered him completely, but he felt no pain. This must be another form, some sort of protection against all the fire in this place, he thought. Aedan then saw the pedestal on the far side of the room. When he arrived in yet another new area, Aedan noticed he was no longer covered in flames. 

As he made his way through the halls, he could hear voices coming from one of the rooms nearby. Upon entering the room, he noticed there were three mages standing, oblivious to his presence. They appeared to be arguing about something, then without warning, all three of them attacked each other. It was then that they noticed Aedan was there. 

Before two of them could attack, the other mage had cast a fireball that engulfed the room, killing them all. Aedan realised that the flaming form he acquired earlier had protected him from the attack, and as he looked at what was left of the room, he was grateful for the protection. There was nothing left but ash, even the walls were starting to crumble slightly.

The next few rooms also had mages in them, though none of them were foolish enough to use a fireball in such tight quarters. In the last room, he was attacked by servants who appeared to be protecting the door at the far end of the same room, however, they were no match for a trained warrior. Aedan took no pleasure in killing them, even though this was just the Fade.

Before he went through the door, the warden noticed the flames were again covering his body, and he would soon see why. On the other side of the door was a massive wall of flame. Immediately after stepping through, he was attacked by more of those fire demons. I’m going to have to ask Aleta or Wynne about these demons he thought. 

Throughout the next few rooms, he was continuously attacked by mages, and while they posed no significant threat, it was certainly getting on his nerves.

Finally, Aedan came to a room where a lone mage was trying to fight off other mages as well as stone golems. He remembered seeing one in a village called Honnleath when he travelled with his family headed south for Denerim. Aedan moved to attack the two mages, while the lone mage shifted his focus to the golems. After a fair amount of time, he was victorious.

“Thank you. It is time for this dream to come to an end,” the mage replied with a grateful smile, turning to Aedan. “I give you my strength. It will be of little use against the demon that rules here, but perhaps it will help in other realms. Find a way to kill all the demon lords to open the way to Sloth. Free us all from this nightmare!” He then turned and walked away before disappearing in the air. Looking around the room, Aedan saw a staircase on the left side of the room.

No sooner had he entered the room, he was attacked by another stone golem. This time though, he had a trick of his own. Aedan had a haunch what the new form would be, and he was right. When the golem had attacked, he was transformed into one himself, now they would be evenly matched. Or so he thought. 

After a few well placed punches, the golem crumbled. The door at the end of the room led to a hallway, with two mages and a golem. The mages did not stand a chance, and the golem faired no better than the last. Following the main hallway, Aedan soon reached the door at the end, using the golem form to break open the door. When he stepped through, Aedan expected to see a huge demon there. Instead, he was greeted by an almost human sized one. It actually looked like the thing he and the others fought in the werewolves’ lair. 

It was also surprisingly easy to kill, it didn’t try to summon minions like Yevena did. When it was dead, the pedestal appeared in the centre of the room. Aedan was transported back to the room where he met the dreaming templar. Using both the golem and flame form, the warden managed to open the massive door and avoid being burned alive.

He was greeted by burning templars, corpses and a mabari hound in the next room. With all the forms he had gathered, the battle was easily won. The demon in the next room must’ve been Rhagos, the one the templar had spoken of. It appeared to be a stronger version of the fire demons had already fought. Using the shield to block its attacks, Aedan stabbed at it with the sword, wounding it severely. After a few more attacks, it let out a cry of both pain and rage, before collapsing on the floor where it burnt up completely, leaving only ash in its place. Another pedestal, another room.

Except this time, Aedan was transported somewhere completely new. The halls looked the same, but he had never been here before. While walking through, Aedan was attacked by abominations and an ogre. Hell, even a blight wolf tried to attack him. More mouse holes finally led him to a massive door. Using the golem, form he crashed through it. On the other side, there was a demon similar to Yevena.

“Catch me if you can!” she said, before turning into a mouse and using one of the holes near the wall. Shit, this is just what I need. A game of cat and mouse. Or mouse and mouse Aedan thought wryly. 

“The game isn’t over mortal!” she cried in a shrill voice when Aedan emerged from the mouse hole. As he moved away, he drew his sword and said, “It is for you, bitch,” throwing his sword with everything he had. 

She must have thought she was invincible, because she didn’t move, and that was her mistake. The sword impaled her, pinning her to the pillar she stood in front of. Aedan walked up to her and looked at her. She tried to speak, but the only sound was her choking on her own blood. A few seconds later her body went limp and Aedan pulled the sword out of her chest, letting her corpse slump on the floor. Another pedestal, yet another room.

This room was also new to him with another massive door stood in the corner. After smashing through it, some darkspawn attacked. Aedan was still in golem form, so he decided to use it. Swinging his bulky fists and picking up chunks of the floor, the darkspawn were soon just smears of red on the floors and walls. Just the way he liked them.

Crashing through the door at the end of the same hall, the warden was attacked by a giant ogre. It was by far bigger than the one in the Tower of Ishal. The two were evenly matched while Aedan was in golem form, he only hoped it would last long enough to kill this big bastard. 

Slamming his fists into the ground, he crushed one of the ogre’s feet. Letting out a roar of pain, it charged, but missed, instead slamming into the wall behind the warden. Aedan heard the crunch of bone on the wall, as its horns got stuck. He picked up a large piece of rubble and hurled it at the ogre’s head. The rubble hit it, but it also dislodged the horns from the wall. This time the ogre picked up a piece of wall and threw it at his adversary, hitting him dead on. 

The ogre let out a roar of triumph, before limping over to where Aedan lay trapped under the rubble. As it got closer, the warden slammed his fist down on its other foot, crushing it also.

Stumbling back, the ogre tried to charge again, but with two crushed feet, it only succeeded in falling over. After freeing himself, Aedan walked over to where it lay and raised his foot, bringing it down on the ogre’s head. He could hear the sickening crunch as it’s skull caved in. As the life drained from its body, so too did the golem form. As Aedan regained his human form, a pedestal appeared. He was really getting sick of these damn pedestals.

Aedan looked around. No walls, or hallways for that matter. This new area was completely open. As he looked around further, he could see Alistair in the distance, he appeared to be talking to a woman. 

When Aedan made his way carefully toward them, Alistair looked up from the woman and smiled at his fellow warden. “Hey there, it’s good to see you again. I was just thinking about you. Isn’t that a marvellous coincidence?” Alistair motioned to the woman beside him. “This is my sister, Goldanna. These are her children, and there’s more about somewhere. We’re one big happy family, at long last!”

Aedan looked from Alistair to this Goldanna and frowned. This appeared to be something of a private memory, or perhaps a hidden wish? He didn’t know, but all this time spent running around the damned Fade had made one thing absoloutley clear to him, things were never as they seemed. Aedan put his hand on his comrades’ shoulder and said, “Alistair, they’re not real. This is all just a dream, and they’re all demons.”

Alistair looked at Aedan as if he’d gone bonkers and laughed. “Oh, everyone say that about their relatives, but I’ve never been happier.”

The thing called Goldanna laughed as well. “I’m overjoyed to have my little brother back. I’ll never let him out of my sight again!”

Something about the way it laughed really sent the shivers down Aedan’s spine. He wondered why Alistair didn’t seem to be worried. Aedan wanted to avoid more bloodshed, though he conceded that that was highly unlikely. However, it was worth a shot. He turned to her, “Do you mind if I borrow Alistair for a little while? We have something more important to do.”

Alistair frowned then, and without giving Goldanna a chance to reply he said slowly, “I… don’t think I’ll be coming. I don’t want to spend my life fighting, only to end up dead in a pit with rotting darkspawn corpses.”

A twisted smirk appeared on Goldanna’s face and Aedan was now convinced this was a demon. “Well Alistair. Is your friend staying for supper?”

Alistair looked like a big happy kid. “Say you’ll stay. Goldanna’s a great cook! Maybe she’ll make her mince pie. You can, can’t you?” he said, turning to Goldanna.

The demon smiled insipidly at Aedan. “Of course, dear brother. Anything for you.” 

That was it, Aedan was done trying to be gentle. “Alistair! She is not your sister! That is a demon disguised to look and sound like your sister!”

“How can you say that about Goldanna? She’s the soul of goodness!” he exclaimed, affronted. “You’re acting really strangely.”

“Andraste’s ass! Alistair, think about it! How did you get here? Look around you and think!” Aedan said in exasperation, putting both hands on his shoulders and shaking him a little.

“I don’t feel like thinking right now. I was never really good at that anyway. I think your odd behaviour is brought on by hunger. Now come and have some pie. I promise you’ll feel better,” the bewitched warden replied, removing Aedan’s hands.

Aedan drew his sword and rounded on the demon. “I have grown tired of this farce, demon. Let him go!” Aedan demanded.

“NO! He’s ours. Nothing you say will convince him otherwise. He sees only what we want him to see,” Goldanna replied, her voice lowering an octave, betraying its true nature.

Aedan smiled at her. “Then I suppose I’ll just have to kill you.”

“I am not so easily disposed of, Grey Warden!” the demon shrieked, before attacked him. Aedan had no problem wounding it, though he wasn’t ready for the children, they’d turned into rotting corpses. As he turned to focus on the corpses, the demon tried to make a run for it. Aedan picked up a sword from the corpse he had just killed and threw it at her. It sliced through the demon’s leg, just below the knee. Try running now, demon he thought, smiling. 

After defeating the corpses, Aedan walked over to where the demon was trying to crawl away. Without giving it a chance to speak, he brought his sword down across its neck, slicing the head off, before walking back to Alistair, who was staring in disbelief at the demon. “G-Goldanna? I can’t believe it. How did I not see this earlier?”

“It’s not your fault Alistair, you’re in the Fade. The other’s are here as well.” Aedan replied, trying to think of something more comforting to say.

“Yes… uh, well. Try not to tell anyone how easily fooled I was, please?” the older warden pleaded. Before Aedan could reply, Alistair began to shimmer. “Are we going now?” Then he looked panicked. “Hey! Where are you going? What’s happening to me? HEY!” Then he was gone. 

Aedan was slightly panicked himself, he did not like this place. Then reason came over him. Alistair must have woken up, or broke the spell, and that could only mean that Aedan was on the right track. Looking around the mist, he was not surprised to see another pedestal. He walked over to it, wondering where he would be sent next.

Aedan did not have to wait long. In the distance he saw Leliana kneeling before an older woman, as though she were praying. He cautiously made his way to the redhead and listened as she recited the familiar verses. “Blessed are thou, who exists in the sight of the Maker. Blessed are thou who seeks His forgiveness.” 

When she had finished, he touched her arm gently. “Leliana? Leliana, you need to come with me.”

“Blessed… What? Who are you?” She asked, confused. She looked around before finally getting to her feet.

The old woman turned to the warden, distaste curling her upper lip. “I beg you! Do not disturb the girl’s meditations.”

“Revered Mother, I do not know this person.” Leliana said, turning to the old woman with another confused shake of her head.

Aedan counted to ten, trying not to lose his cool. He took a deep breath and said as patiently as he could, “If you’re telling me that you honestly don’t remember the ludicrous speech you gave me back at Lothering, I’ll be sorely disappointed. You had a vision telling you to join me in my quest to stop the Blight.”

Leliana turned to Aedan blankly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The Revered Mother turned to him, her eyes crackling with sinful delight when Aedan’s fists clenched and unclenched in frustration. “Please do not vex her. She needs quiet and solitude, to calm her mind, and heal her heart.”

“I am happy here, this is all I’ve ever wanted,” Leliana said, smiling at the Revered Mother radiantly.

“Leliana, please. Do you really not know me? This is not real! You and I are the only real things here, the rest is just a dream!” Aedan exclaimed, squeezing her hands, trying to reassure her in some way.

Leliana looked down at their joined hands then back up at him. She smiled slowly. “There is something familiar about you, and I find myself trusting you, as odd as that may sound.”

“Then come with me now, and let us leave this place,” Aedan replied, smiling in relief.

The Revered Mother turned to her. “This is your home, your place of refuge. Do you really want to leave the comfort of this place behind? Stay, and know peace.”

Leliana smiled, almost free of the demon’s manipulation. “There is no need. I carry the peace of the Chantry in my heart.”

The demon was unravelled. Its voice dropped like the demon that imprisoned Alistair. “You are going nowhere, girl. I will not permit it!”

“She is free demon. Give up now, you no longer have control over her!” Aedan demanded, hand gripping his sword.

“NO! She is ours, now and forever.” The old woman tried to attack, but the warden had anticipated that, thrusting his sword forward into her chest. The demon drew its last breath and fell to the ground.

“Holy Maker! She… she was…a…” Leliana put a hand to her head. “Ugh, my head feels heavy, like I’ve just woken up from a terrible nightmare.” After a few seconds, she continued. “I believe we had a… task to accomplish. Let us be on our way.” Just then she too started to shimmer before fading away as Alistair had done. “Wait! What is happening to me?”

The pedestal appeared again. This time Aedan found Sten. 

“Shanedan,” he said, looking up at Aedan. It was then he noticed they weren’t alone. 

There were two more Qunari to the left of where they stood, sitting around a campfire and laughing. “Who are you talking to?” one of them asked. 

“Don’t bother the Sten. Isn’t it your turn to cook?” the other one said, rummaging through a satchel for something to add to the fire.

“Cook what? There’s no food in this miserable, frozen country,” the first grumbled.

Sten grunted in a final tone. “Parshaara! We have a guest. Make room at the fire.”

Aedan looked back at Sten. “Why exactly do they call you ‘Sten’?”

Sten looked at him and understood his confusion. “The same reason they call you the Warden.”

The two Qunari looked at Sten. “We’ve been days in this place. There’s no sign of any threat. The Arishok’s report was wrong. Can we not go home?”

Sten reply was simple. “No.”

“I thought the Qunari were great warriors. Are all Qunari like this?” Aedan asked, hoping he did not offend the giant.

Sten crossed his arms and sighed. “Not really. This is a dream. I’m not a fool, warden. I remember seeing the karashok there have his head torn off.”

The Qunari that was not the karashok laughed. “Well, that’s not a great loss.”

The other, who must have been the ‘karashok’ turned to the other. “You are so entertaining, kadan, you should perform in the square with the other trained monkeys. We could throw you peanuts.”

Sten watched them wistfully while they were talking, before turning to Aedan. “It is a dream, but it’s a good dream.”

Aedan was beginning to see that there was much more to his large comrade than the bronzed giant was willing to let on. “Sten, you are a warrior, like me. We’ve both lost men under our command, but don’t you want to avenge these men?”

Sten snorted dispiritedly. “Revenge. What good does that do them? Their corpses will not taste it, nor share in the victory.”

Just then the one called karashok looked up at Sten. “I wish we didn’t have to taste this. What is this anyway, stew?”

His comrade said, “It’s bread.”

“Of course it is. Rational men would call this despair,” Karashok said, with a sigh.

Aedan could see that this was taking a heavy toll on Sten, these men must have been close to him. The demons that he knew to be the Qunari's companions were entrenched deeply in his mind, manipulating his feelings. Aedan had to help him before it was too late. “Listen Sten, you know this is a dream. If you stay, these men died in vain. You know what must be done.”

Sten thought this over for a moment and nodded. “For once, you are right, warden. I owe them a victory.”

Both the Qunari stood, again their tones changing. “You can’t leave your post.”

Sten turned and faced them. “Stand aside. I would hate to see you both die again.”

“NO! We won’t let you leave us again!” Karashok replied, his skin beginning to fall away, revealing him to be another demon.

The two of them tried to attack, but with both Sten and the warden, they never stood a chance. With them dead, Sten turned to Aedan. “May we leave this place. I do not wish to be here any more. What is happening? What is this trickery?” he said as he started to shimmer and disappear.

Aedan found Jovey this time, although there was nothing strange here. No demons he could see. Jovey was just lying there sleeping. Aedan stood there and watched him for a moment, his leg kicking like he was chasing something. He growled a little too, then he stopped altogether. 

Aedan knelt down and patted him on the head, which seemed to wake him up. He looked up and wagged his tail, barking happily at his master. “Ready to get out of here boy? Huh Jovey?” another happy bark, then he was gone.

Next, it was Wynne. She was standing in the middle of a small clearing, surrounded by mage bodies. As Aedan got nearer, he could hear her talking to herself. “Maker, forgive me. I failed them all. They died and I did not stop it.”

“Wynne, they’re not dead. The Circle still stands,” Aedan explained gently, stepping out of the mist and stood along side her.

She turned and looked at him angrily. “What about all this? How can you say that when you are faced with this?” she said, looking at the bodies around her. “Death. Can you not see it? It is all around us.”

“It’s not real, Wynne. You’re in the Fade, it’s all just a dream,” Aedan replied adamantly.

Wynne didn’t seem to notice. “Why was I spared, if not to help them? What use is my life now that I have failed in the task?” She held her head in her hands and sobbed. “Leave me to my grief. I shall bury their bones, scatter their ashes to the four winds and mourn their passing til I too, am dead.”

Aedan tried to be respectful, after all she was a lot older than him, but she was also a mage and should know better than this. “Wynne, for Andraste’s sake! This isn’t real! These mages are not real!” 

Wynne scowled at him. “Your blatant disregard for the souls of the dead, strikes me as utterly inappropriate. And where were you when this happened? I trusted you as an ally and you were nowhere to be found!” she demanded, scowling deeper still.

Aedan tried not to, but he got angry. He was sick to death of this place and never wanted to return. “I was trapped in the Fade, in my own nightmare, but I was able to free myself, and you can too if you stop whining and use the senses the Maker himself gave you! Do you remember anything before this?”

She was affronted but his anger was enough to make her break away from this melancholy and think. “I remember we were entering the tower, and then I remember all this death around me. There was no sign of you or the others. It was just me and all… this. I don’t remember any of them dying, I just know that they are dead. Why? Why wouldn’t I remember them dying?”

At last Aedan was getting through to her. “Because they are not dead, Wynne. You haven’t failed them.”

She turned to face him once more, now focusing intently. “Something in your voice rings true, but it feels as though my mind is clouded over. Perhaps some time away from this place will help me think clearly.”

Just then, one of the mages got to his feet. Seconds later, the others stood up also. “Don’t leave us Wynne. We don’t want to be alone,” they all said in unison.

“Holy Maker! Stay back, foul creatures” Wynne gasped, steadying herself.

The mages stepped towards her. “Stay with us, Wynne. Sleep soundly in the comforting embrace of the earth. Do not fight it! You belong here with us!” their voices changing, just as the other demons before them.

“No. Not yet. My task is not done yet, it is not yet time!” Wynne exclaimed. Then the demons attacked, but they were already prepared. While Wynne cast spells at multiple enemies, Aedan attacked the ones she couldn’t hit. When they were dead, she turned to him. “Is it over? Thank the Maker for you. Wait, what is happening? Where are you going?” she asked as she disappeared.

Aedan wondered who would be next, but before he let himself get carried away with any horrid ideas, he touched the pedestal and found Morrigan arguing with Flemeth. “Away! Away with you! I’ll have no more of your pestering,” Morrigan was saying, clearly irritated.

“I am your mother! Do you not love me?” Flemeth mocked.

“You are as much my mother as my little finger, right here, is the queen of Ferelden. I know you, fade spirit. You cannot fool me,” Morrigan replied snidely.

“Are you more clever than your own dear mother? Surely, such pride must be punished!” Flemeth said, slapping Morrigan. “There! That is for not showing respect!”

Morrigan back peddled, clutching the side of her face and glaring at the spirit. “That is far more like it, but it is too little, too late, spirit.” Morrigan then saw Aedan approaching. “Tis you at last! Come and rid me of this vexatious spirit! I grow weary of being prodded!”

“Wait, you know this isn’t real?” Aedan asked, trying not to be surprised. She was a powerful mage after all.

“Tis not plain to see? We are in the Fade, and this is a Fade spirit, not my mother, despite it’s constant ascertains,” Morrigan replied, matter-of-factly.

Flemeth turned to Aedan. “She doesn’t even acknowledge her own mother! My heart, it breaks.”

Morrigan sighed. “Oh, slay it, and quickly! Even the true Flemeth was never as annoying as this!” 

Flemeth attacked, but compared to the real Flemeth, this one was nothing. Morrigan defeated the spirit on her own, before Aedan had even drawn his sword.

“Tis about time? That was most… Wait! What is this? No, not again! I refuse!” then she was gone. Great, now I just have to find Aleta and Tanner and get out of this place. 

After using the pedestal, Aedan looked at his surroundings. Each place looked the same. He sighed and began his search for his newest companion, Aleta.

A few metres ahead stood two elven men with their backs to him. Aedan recognised the taller one as the previous Keeper, Zathrian, of the elven clan he’d visited a few days ago and the shorter, blonde one was Deygan, the hunter they’d saved in the Brecillian Forest. As Aedan approached them he could hear the Keeper speak. “What a glorious day, d’alen!” Aedan watched Zathrian reach out his hand then saw Aleta come into view, beaming. Zathrian took her hand and Deygan’s hand and joined them together. “Two weeks from now we shall celebrate your wedding.” 

Aedan watched as Aleta and Deygan embraced. Even though he didn’t know her all that well yet, the warden knew that her life within the clan had never been this easy. Zathrian of all people could never be this charming. It was going to be devastating, but Aedan had to wake her up. “Aleta, stop.” They all turned around with confused looks.

“Who are you?” Aleta brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes.

“It’s me, Aedan. Don’t you remember? The Grey Warden from the Brecillian Forest?” He moved closer, holding out his hand. 

She frowned, seeming to take it in. “Strange. I don’t think I’ve ever met you, but your eyes….” She took a short step forward, but then stopped. Deygan had tugged her gently back. She turned to him with a questioning glance.

“He’s human, lethelan. You don’t know any other humans. Come, let us go back to our aravel.” Deygan tugged at her hand again. 

When she turned away from him, Aedan sighed. He grabbed her other hand and yanked her back. “This isn’t real, Aleta. The Keeper is dead and you’ve left the forest and your clan for good.”

The Keeper stepped forward this time. “Clearly I am not. You must leave now, warrior. This is a happy day and you are spoiling it.”

Now he was annoyed. “They’re demons, Aleta. They’re feeding off your life force. Listen to what I’m saying.”

She stopped right in her tracks. “Demons?”

“Yes,” Aedan said. “Think about what your life was like before we met. You were never this welcome. You belong with us; me, Alistair, Leliana, Tanner, Morrigan and Sten, hell even Jovey.”

“How dare you!” The Keeper exclaimed. “Do not listen to him, d’alen. He wants to capture you and make you a slave! Here you are free, stay with us.”

A look of intense sadness came over her face. She knew Aedan was right. “This is the better way to remember them. Why did you have to take that away from me too?”

“You mustn’t listen to him, lethelan!” Deygan said urgently, caressing her hand. 

Aleta removed her hand and went to stand with Aedan. “Sadly, he is right. You are not my Deygan and the Keeper really is dead.” She drew her staff from her back and the two geared up for a fight. In an effort to spare Aleta further pain, Aedan stepped forward to attack Deygan. Aleta stopped him. “No, I must face Deygan alone.” She said, a look great sadness on her face. 

“If you’re sure.” Aedan replied, a concerned look on his face.

She nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Then I will stop the Keeper.” Aedan said as he walked over to Zathrian, drawing his sword.

“You can’t have her. She is to stay here, with us. There is nothing you can do to stop us, warden,” the demon warned.

“I’m afraid, demon, that there is nothing you can do to stop me,” Aedan replied, bringing his sword up and across, slicing through the Keeper’s neck. As the head fell away, Aedan turned to see Aleta had defeated the Deygan demon, and was kneeling over him, saying a Dalish prayer. He gave her a moment to finish saying goodbye, even though it was not the real Deygan, the warden could see it had affected her deeply. 

When she was done, she turned and walked over to him. “Thank you, Aedan. Can we leave this place? I do not wish to linger here any longer.” Then she disappeared, no complaints or questions. She just left. The pedestal appeared again, and the warden wondered where he’d end up now.

After the mist had settled Aedan found himself in a familiar place. It smelled of ale, sex and smoke. He was in a brothel. He looked around and a small room materialised in front of him and sitting in a large plush armchair by a fireplace sat Tanner, cigar in one hand and the other groping the backside of a scantily dressed blonde woman. This seems like a wonderful dream Aedan joked to himself. 

Tanner didn’t seem to notice the warden’s presence at all, his eyes firmly glued to the woman on his lap. He slapped her rump and she giggled, rubbing herself against him teasingly. “You’re such a handsome, dashing rogue, I’m going to make you so happy baby...” She licked the side of his face and Aedan was disgusted to see her form change, the tongue growing to abnormal lengths. 

Before things got further out of hand, Aedan reefed the thing off Tanner and brought his sword across her neck. That got the rogue’s attention. “What the hell?! Get your own room, arsehole!”

“This isn’t real, Tanner,” Aedan tried to explain. 

The woman screamed out for help and Tanner lunged at the warden, still blind to what she truly was. “You heard her, mate. Get away.”

Aedan dodged and Tanner fell to the floor with a grunt. Aedan slit the woman’s throat and blood pooled on the floor. “You’ll thank me for that later, I promise.” As she lie there, Tanner got up and tried to punch the warden in the face, but missed. Clearly he had been drinking. It was then he saw the bottles strewn across the room. No wonder the older man couldn’t see through her.

Aedan pulled him up off the floor roughly, then slapped him. “Wake up, man.” He then dragged the rogue down a little and said forcefully, “See? Demon.”

Tanner rubbed his eyes, and it was as if a veil had been removed from his sight. “Fuck!”

“My sentiments exactly!” Aedan exclaimed. “Now listen to me, we must escape from this place - ”

Tanner was beginning to shimmer and disappear, just as the other companions had done. Aedan sighed in relief, that was everyone he was sure. With any luck, I’ll wake up from this frigging nightmare, and be back in the Circle.

No such luck. This time he was somewhere new, again, although there was someone standing in the middle of the area. As he neared it, the warden realised where he was, and what it was. 

The Sloth demon.

“What do we have here? A rebellious minion? An escaped slave? My, my, but you do have some gall. But playtime is over. You will have to go back now,” the demon said. Just then, the others appeared beside him.

“You failed, demon. We are all here, now you shall face us together,” Aedan said confidently, stepping forward. The Sloth demon looked at all of them, standing together.

“If you go back quietly, I’ll do better this time. I’ll make you much happier,” the creature said, attempted to bargain with him.

“NO! We don’t want anything from you. Now face us demon!” Aedan replied, drawing his sword.

“You wish to battle me? So be it, you will learn to bow to your betters, mortal.” Then Sloth turned into an Ogre and attacked. 

With the nine of them standing together, Sloth couldn’t attack them all at once. While Wynne, Aleta and Morrigan cast spells, the rest of the party got in close, slicing at his legs. Just when Aedan thought they were inflicting serious damage on him, Sloth transformed himself again, this time into one of the fire demons. Only bigger. 

While Alistair and Aedan kept him distracted with their shields, Sten, Tanner and Leliana attacked him from behind. Even though there was nothing he could do, Jovey also tried to attack, nipping whenever he got the opportunity. 

Each time they got close, Sloth transformed. He did this another two times, before finally showing his true form. Jovey must have seen his opportunity to finally do something, and do something he did. The mabari charged Sloth, leaping into the air as he got close, latching his teeth onto the demons arm.

Roaring in pain, Sloth shifted his focus to Jovey, giving the rest the opportunity to finish him. One of the mages had cast an immobilisation spell, preventing the demon from moving. Alistair and Aedan looked at each other, then at Sten, Tanner and Leliana. They must’ve all thought the same thing, because the five them charged Sloth and stabbed him with their weapons. 

Sloth looked down at the blades entering and exiting him from all sides, then looked up at Aedan. He tried to speak, but the only sound was the demon choking on its own blood. It wasn’t until the small army withdrew their blades that Jovey finally released his grip on Sloth arm. The next thing Aedan knew, Niall appeared behind them. “You defeated the demon! I never thought… I never expected you to free yourself, to free us both. When you return, take the Litany of Andralla from my body, it will protect you from the worst of the blood magic.”

“What do you mean your body? You are free, why not come with us?” Aedan asked, confused.

Niall shook his head. “I cannot. I have been here far too long. For you, it will have been an afternoon nap. Your body won’t have wasted away in the real world, while your spirit lay in the hands of a demon.”

Aedan wasn’t quite sure what to say, but Niall must have sensed it. “It is time for us both to be on our way. Remember the Litany of Andralla. The Circle is all that matters now. Thank you, and goodbye… friend.” Then Niall was no more.

When he awoke, Aedan saw that they were back in the real world. As the others gathered themselves, the warden went over to Niall’s body. He carefully took the Litany, saying a few words in his head as he knelt over him. Aedan stood and turned back to see the others looking at him. Alistair nodded at him. Aedan looked at each of them for a second. “Let’s finish this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone following the story :D


	9. Uldred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final stages of the Circle is upon them, will Aedan survive Senior Enchanter Uldred? All cannon belongs to Bioware, Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Eight: Uldred

Along the way, Aedan and his companions encountered more abominations, undead warriors and fire demons, before reaching the last door. When they stepped through Aedan noticed a templar on his knees and clutching his temples clearly in agony, trapped inside some sort of force field. His hands gripped his sword tighter as his gaze swept across the room, looking for any potential threats. “This trick again? I know what you are, it won’t work this time. I will stay strong!”

“What trick? What won’t work” Alistair mumbled, doing likewise.

Wynne came up beside him. “The boy is exhausted, and this cage, I’ve never seen anything like it. Rest easy, Ser Cullen, help is here,” she said soothingly.

The templar moaned, rocking back and forth. “Enough visions! If anything in you is human, kill me now and stop this game. You broke the others, but I will stay strong. For my sake, and theirs. Now begone! And leave me to die.” He rose to his feet, looking around frantically. “Still here? But that’s always worked before! I close my eyes, but you’re still here when I open them.”

“Yes, obviously we’re not demons or spirits. A templar like you should’ve figured that out by now, don’t you think?” Aedan said sarcastically, growing weary of all the obstacles in this tower.

The blonde, curly-haired templar relaxed a little when he realised that Aedan was right. He studied each of the wardens' companions warily before saying slowly, “You can’t blame me for being cautious. The voices, the images… so real. Why are you here? How did you get this far?”

“We’re here to save the Circle, and any mages still alive,” Alistair said, his expression one of sincere sympathy. 

“And we’ve killed everything that got in our way. Uldred is next.” Aedan added darkly.

The templar snorted. “You can’t save them. You don’t know what they’ve become!”

“Well, I’m not going to kill them all. I need as many mages as possible,” Aedan replied, not liking the templar's tone.

The blonde man shook his head, aggravated. “They’ve been surrounded by blood mages, whose wicked fingers snake into your mind and corrupt you thoughts. You have to end it now, before it’s too late!”

Sten grunted in obvious approval, saying gruffly, “What he says makes sense. Do not discard it out of hand… these mages are out of control.”

“And that means that we mages are all the same then?” Wynne demanded hotly. “Clearly Aleta, Morrigan and myself are sensible and responsible with our magic. From what I hear, magic has even healed your wounds once or twice. Is it all so evil then?”

Sten stared the older woman down for a few minutes before finally conceding her point. “Perhaps.” He then turned to Aleta, nodding in acknowledgement but completely ignored Morrigan, much to the sorceress’ chagrin.

“I am not going to risk killing innocent mages! Uldred and anyone else who stands against us will be cut down. Now how do we get you out of this cage?” Aedan said, commanding the templar’s attention. The warden had run out of patience, now that the end was so close. To say he was eager to leave was a monumental understatement.

“This cage is Uldred’s doing. Or one of his mages. Once they are dead, I will be free,” Ser Cullen replied.

“Excellent, Uldred will die. We will return soon,” Aedan told him. Then he led the others up the staircase beside him, and through the final door. 

Before proceeding to the highest point of the tower, Aedan could hear the torturous cries of the mages within. He heard monstrous sounds, the horrific slashing and tearing of flesh, profane chanting and malicious and maniacal laughing of a man the warden assumed to be Uldred. Aedan was filled with dread as he opened the door.

Inside they could see what remained of the circle mages cowering together in a far off part of the tower, with three abominations watching them carefully. In the middle of the room stood Uldred, a tall bald mage, guarded by six other abominations. He was staring up at another mage, held upright by the neck by another abomination. “Do you accept the gift I offer?” Uldred asked the mage, giggling in short, insane bursts. 

The mage appeared to be dead, so Uldred waved his hand and the abomination released him, letting his body fall to the floor in a bloody heap. Then he and the abominations with him, turned their attention to an unconscious mage on the floor. Uldred thrust his hands forward and began to giggle again, muttering something unholy in between breaths and slowly the unfortunate mage transformed into an abomination. Uldred spun on the spot in insane delight and it was then he saw the wardens and their companions at the door, frozen in horror of what they had just witnessed. “Ah… look what we have here, intruders. I bid you welcome. Care to join in our… revels?” he asked nonchalantly, as though inviting them for tea.

Aedan grit his teeth, and Tanner glared furiously, their faces contorted with wild rage. It was difficult to determin who was more angry. The warden was the first to form a coherent thought, growling, “No. I just want you and your friends dead. Now.” As he drew his sword, it seemed the heinous display had disturbed his comrades too, as they also drew their weapons and readied themselves for battle.

Uldred sighed. “Fight if you must. It will just make my victory all the sweeter.”

Wynne turned to Aedan. “Don’t forget the Litany, it will thwart Uldred’s attempts to control the mages and win this fight for us.”

Uldred then transformed himself into… something. This thing was huge, much bigger then an ogre and a shade of plum in color, as well as a mouthful of razor sharp teeth and several eyes. However Aedan had no more time to think about it, as Uldred charged them. Just as they fought the demon sloth, the mages were casting spells from a distance while the melee fighters got in close. Jovey was the first to land a successful attack, latching onto Uldred’s heel. When he tore out a chunk of skin, Uldred kicked back, knocking Jovey away. Not to be cast aside so easily, the proud mabari got straight back in there and attacked his other heel. 

Sten charged in and stabbed at Uldred’s thigh. Alistair sliced at his other leg, and Aedan went high. Launching himself into the air, he stabbed Uldred in the stomach sliding down with his sword, opening up a gaping hole. 

Just then one of the abominations was closing in on Sten from behind. Aleta saw what was happening, and tried yelling out to him, but to no avail. The raven haired mage ran into the fray, charging the abomination. For a moment her staff vibrated and glowed a bright blue as she struck the abomination with all her might, knocking it up high then backwards. Sten must have realised what was happening, because he turned and grabbed the abomination by the throat, bringing his sword up through the creature’s chest. 

As the creature fell to the floor, Sten nodded in approval at her. The two of them continued to fight back to back, Aleta using her skills to defend Sten as the bronzed giant pillaged anything and everything in sight. When he saw that his minions were not holding up effectively against them, Uldred snarled and lobbed bolts of black lightning at them, but Aleta was able to create walls of earth and rock around her, which not only protected her and Sten from the remaining abominations, but from Uldred as well. This enraged the creature more and it raised its claws up and red rings began to encircle its wrists.

Over in their space, the Circle mages began to cry out as one of them began to levitate on the spot, red rings now forming around her torso. “No!” Wynne cried. “Warden, use the Litany, Uldred’s trying to transform the mages!”

Aedan and Alistair were swamped trying to keep Uldred’s attention, but Leliana had a clear shot. She aimed her bow at the creature’s neck. She was about to fire when another abomination rushed her. In her attempt to dodge, the creature scraped her elbow, making her misfire. The arrow was loosed, and wounded Uldred, though not fatally as she had planned. Instead it pierced its chest and was enough to interrupt the casting. The mage that had been snared by the spell, was now free and the other mages dragged her away from the fight.

Uldred, on the other hand, was livid. He turned his attention to the red head and her companions, Wynne and Morrigan, at the other end of the chamber.

Wynne was freezing abominations, while Morrigan burnt them with her fireball spells, unaware of Uldred stalking them. The two were working very well together, but they couldn’t watch everything going on all around them. In the shadows Tanner, who seemed more affected than the others by the hideous transformations, put great fervor into each of his shots, grunting in primal satisfaction as each bolt that hit an abomination made a gory mess upon exploding. He rushed to Wynne’s side and knifed one abomination in the face that was about to claw her back. The creature wailed in agony as Tanner took out a second and third dagger, stabbing it in the guts then slicing upwards, the creatures innards spewing all down its front.

Wynne gasped as her robes were smeared with the entrails, then upon seeing Tanner’s bloodthirsty expression, frowned. “My thanks, Tanner. Are you al -” Before she could finish, Tanner grabbed her by the back of the head and shoved her roughly to the floor, and attempted to dodge a black bolt of lightning. The sharp intake of breath and vulgar cursing told the older mage he had not succeeded. Wynne erected another barrier in front of them that absorbed each bolt but was diminishing with every hit. She knew she only had seconds to reach the rogue and heal him enough to get out of the path of more incoming lightning. 

She scrambled as best she could to his side, touching the area affected and a blue light emitted from her palm. Tanner smiled at her and helped her to her feet. The two joined Morrigan and Leliana, who had somehow managed to avoid getting hit altogether. They made their stand together, and provided as much cover fire as they could manage for Alistair and Aedan.

Jovey was still biting at Uldred’s heels, chasing the demon down with unrelenting force. Alistair and Aedan continued to stab at his legs and stomach, and finally managed to get Uldred’s attention away from the mages and Tanner. By now Sten had joined the melee fighters and Aleta returned to a safe distance. Sten, using all his might, swung his great sword across the front of Uldred’s left leg, severing it completely. As Uldred came crashing down, they ducked for cover. Still Uldred kept fighting, but he was losing a lot of blood from all the wounds, and now a severed leg. 

Leliana took this opportunity to run up on Uldred’s chest and stab with her daggers. Aedan focused his attention on the few remaining abominations, and Alistair went for Uldred’s throat. As he ran up over his torso, past Leliana, Alistair realised there was no way he could cut his throat in one slice. The older warden decided to go for his eyes instead, and as he raised his sword, Alistair saw all seven ofUldred’s eyes go wide in fear. He knew he was beaten, but still he kept fighting.

Sten was behind Alistair now, plunging his own sword into Uldred’s neck. If anyone can cut his throat, it’d be Sten. That Qunari has the might of ten men, Alistair thought, before plunging his sword into Uldred’s eye. Letting out a roar of pain, Uldred rolled on the floor, throwing all of them clear. As he thrashed around on the floor, blood poured from the wounds in his body. Seconds later, he was dead, and deteriorated back into his human form.

As the warriors stepped back slowly from the gory mess, a mage that had huddled up away from the group stood and limped a little toward them. He had a long grey beard and wore different robes to any of the others, including Wynne. The First Enchanter perhaps? “Maker, I’m too old for this.”

“Irving, are you alright?” Wynne asked, picking up the pace to help him and confirming Aedan’s suspicions.

The First Enchanted laughed a little, then coughed. “I have been better, and I imagine I have you to thank for that Wynne.”

Wynne looked over at the group and smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners as relief flooded her features. “I had help, Irving.”

The older man turned to Alistair and Aedan. “Yes, thank you. The Circle owes you a debt we can never repay. Come, the templars await. We shall let them know that the tower is once again ours.” Aedan nodded in agreement, taking on the First Enchanter’s weight from Wynne, feeling thoroughly weary both physically and mentally.

With all abominations, demon and blood mages dead, the journey to the bottom of the tower was safe and uneventful. When they reached the bottom, Greagoir approached, a skeptical look on his face. “Irving? I did not expect to see you alive.”

Irving smiled his gratitude. “Yes, Greagoir. Thanks to Wynne and the wardens.”

Just then the templar who had been trapped in the force field stormed up and started arguing with Greagoir and Irving. It appeared to be about blood mages. “I am the Knight Commander, Ser Cullen, not you! I will have the final say on this matter,” Greagoir was saying admantly. He then turned to Aedan. “What do you think, warden? Is the Circle safe?”

Aedan and Alistair exchanged relieved looks and nodded. “Yes Knight Commander, I believe it is. The blood mages involved are dead, so are the abominations.”

Cullen started to object, but Greagoir raised his hand. “We have won back the tower, I will take Irving’s word on the matter. Thank you. You have proven yourself a friend of both the Circle and the templars.”

Aedan hoped this was not his final comment, he was owed recompense. “I still require aid against the Blight.” Aedan gruffly reminded the older man.

Greagoir nodded. “I promised you aid, but with the tower in ruins, I must remain here and supervise rebuilding all this. The mages are free to help you. Speak to Irving.”

Aedan turned to Irving expectantly. “I came here in need of aid against the Blight. I will not be leaving without it.”

“The least we can do is provide aid against the darkspawn. I would hate to survive all this, only to be overcome by the Blight.” Irving replied solemnly, nodding his agreement.

“Thank you, Irving. I appreciate it.” Aedan replied, glad that Irving was willing and eager to assist after such a traumatic experience.

Wynne stepped up beside the two wardens and put a reassuring hand on either of their shoulders. “I have a request Irving. I wish to leave and join the wardens and their companions in their quest.”

“Wynne, we need you here. We have to rebuild the Circle,” Irving replied with a frown.

“These people are brave and good, and capable of great things. If they will accept my help, I will help them accomplish their goals,” Wynne said, turning to Aedan and Alistair.

“It would be my honour to have you join us Wynne.” Aedan smiled. She was a wise woman and quite a capable mage, he would appreciate and benefit from her wisdom certainly.

Irving nodded. “Then I give you leave to travel with the wardens, but know that you always have a home here Wynne. Forgive me, but I must take my leave and begin rebuilding the tower.” Aedan and Alistair shook hands with Irving before the First Enchanter walked away. Aedan led them back across the river and further along the lake before he decided to make camp for the night.


	10. Journey to Orzammar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the mages now allied against the darkspawn horde, Aedan and his companions take a break from the death and destruction and have a moments peace. All cannon belongs to Bioware, Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Nine: Journey To Orzarmmar

Aedan helped Alistair and Tanner erect the tents before going to the lake, eager to wash the filth from his armor and bathe. He managed to convince Morrigan to warm the water a little so he and the other two could soak their aching muscles. Once that was done, he left the warrior and rogue and headed back to the camp, smiling when he smelled the soup that was bubbling over the pit fire. Wynne looked up from the soup, fanning the flames and smiled back. “That smells wonderful, Wynne.”

The older woman laughed. “Yes I imagine it does, after all you’ve been through just recently. I thought you all deserved a hearty meal for your troubles. Please,” she said, gesturing to a place around the fire, “Sit.”

Aedan eagerly complied, and was soon joined by Alistair, who was overjoyed not to have had to cooked this evening, and Tanner, Leliana, Sten, Aleta and Jovey all took their places around the fire. They dug in and polished off most of the soup before realising that Morrigan had not eaten yet. Aedan looked over to the other side of the encampment and saw the witch warming her hands over her own fire, eating something she must have prepared earlier. Aedan could understand why she preferred to be on her own but still felt a small twang of hurt that after all they had been through, that she would still want it this way. 

Thinking back to the events of the tower, Aedan knew that Morrigan had been unnecessarily insensitive and he was wondering if he should give her the tome he found. However, Aedan found himself drawn to the arrogant woman and wanted to impress her. After excusing himself, Aedan reached inside his knapsack and grabbed the ancient tome and headed towards Morrigan’s tent.

The raven haired beauty looked up from the fire, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth when she saw the handsome noble approach. When she saw what he was holding, the smile couldn’t be held at bay any longer. With an excited gasp she said, “What, you found Flemeth’s grimoire? I always hoped to find it, but… truly, this is a most fortuitous event!”

“Is it?” Aedan replied, smiling also. He had accomplished his goal. Aedan handed her the ancient book and let his hand linger for a few more seconds than was needed. This act did not go unnoticed. Morrigan batted her eyelids, feigning to be coy. “You have my thanks, I will study it immediately.” She half turned away, before stopping and faced Aedan again. “I fear that a simple ‘thank you’ might be inadequate, warden. I hope this will suffice.” She reached up to put her hands around his neck and pressed her lips against his.

Aedan smiled triumphantly and leaned into the kiss. He cradled the back of her neck with one hand, and snaked his free arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He felt his cock stiffen in his smalls and groaned with blatant arousal. He felt her smile against his mouth before she pulled away from him, ever the tease. Aedan groaned again, but this time in protest. He opened his eyes to see her own smouldering with lust before she blinked in an effort to hide it, then turned on her heel and entered her tent, leaving the warden grinning idiotically from ear to ear. 

Alistair, who had been watching this display, just shook his head in complete disgust. When Aedan strutted back to the group, the ex-templar snorted, “You do realise that woman is crazy, right?”

Aedan sat down, still grinning and put his hands behind his head and stretched out on his bedroll. “Hmmm? Did you say something, Alistair?”

Alistair rolled his eyes and mumbled something incoherent under his breath, shaking his head again. Aedan laughed and ignored him. Leliana, however, was intrigued. “You and Morrigan appear to have an understanding, yes?” The red-head came to sit by them, motioning toward Morrigan's tent.

Aedan turned to her, still grinning. “I hope so, but I'll go with yes. Why? Jealous, sister?”

Leliana raised a single eyebrow, and was about to reply when Tanner joined them, looping an arm over Leliana's shoulders, planting a playful kiss on her cheek. “Nope. She’s mine mate. Mitts off.” 

The lay sister chuckled, elbowing the mischievous rogue in the chest. “I am not, as you put it, ‘yours’, or jealous for that matter, though that is irrelevant in the larger scheme of things. I am, however, concerned that Morrigan might have an ulterior motive and might be manipulating your affections.”

Aedan sighed. “Thank you Leliana, but I’m a big boy and can look after myself.”

She shrugged her shoulders and said, “Very well. I have spoken my mind warden. I wish you luck.” Then she got up and left. 

There was a small uncomfortable silence after her departure and Alistair especially hated it. “So, Tanner... what exactly happened back there, in the tower? Demons make you twitchy?”

The rogue, who was normally easy-going and smiling now glared dangerously at Alistair. The warden’s eyes widened in surprise, unaccustomed to this new behaviour. “That’s my business, lad.”

Alistair threw his hands up in a peaceful gesture. “Woah, hey, hey now! I was just trying to figure you out. Struck a nerve there it seems.” When it looked as though Tanner wasn’t going to elaborate, the blonde warden took the hint and got to his feet and went inside his tent. 

Aedan was about to get up too when Tanner grabbed his arm tightly. “I didn’t want him to know. Alistair has a good heart but a big mouth.”

Aedan sat back down and stared at the rogue, now noticing the worry lines in his forehead and the subtle scars that were on his cheek and temple. Strange he never saw these at first glance. They made his expression seem somehow darker, dangerous. “So there is a reason behind all that rage back there?”

Tanner nodded. “Aye.” The rogue took out one of his daggers and a whet stone and began to sharpen the blade. “I’m from Lothering warden. That town back there that’s going to get swallowed up by the Blight? I grew up there, had a farm. Had a... family.” Aedan noticed Tanner was gripping the dagger so tightly that his knuckles were beginning to whiten under the pressure. “They were killed, my son by an arrow and my wife the victim of a demon.” He practically spat the word demon and Aedan could see the anguish in the rogue’s eyes.

“She was caught in the crossfire then? Trying to protect your son?” Aedan asked quietly. 

Tanner laughed bitterly. “Oh if only that was how it happened, warden. I might rest easier at night. No my wife was a mage and she summoned the demon. She lost control and the demon took over. I had to slay her myself in the end. Opportunistic bandit bastards killed Liam.”

“That would explain why you refused mercy to that blood mage in the tower then.” Wynne, who had overheard the conversation, quietly came to sit by Tanner. She put her hand on his shoulder and said gently, “We’re not all like that, Tanner. What happened to your wife was awful. Grief does horrible things to us, makes us feel helpless, paralyzes us.”

“I know this, Wynne. You, Aleta and even the surly piece with the nice ass know your limits. Maria should have known hers too,” Tanner retorted angrily. Wynne and Tanner just stared at each other for a few minuets before she finally conceded. The young man would not be comforted yet, he was still obviously grieving and the flirtatious front he was putting up was just that, a mask to hide the pain simmering below the surface. 

The fact that he acknowledged that not all mages should be put to the torch as a result made her feel that there was hope for him yet. “I see. I am sorry for your loss, Tanner. May the Maker help you find peace.” 

She gave his shoulder a squeeze and he squeezed back. “Thank you, Wynne.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. When she too left, Tanner put the daggers back on his belt. 

Aedan felt sympathy for the older man and wished he could do something more. “How long ago did this happen?”

“Two years today,” he replied bitterly.

“Ah,” was all Aedan could say. The battle inside the tower had taken a more serious toll that he originally suspected.

Tanner hated the awkward silence and decided he would end the admission here. The last thing he wanted from the warden was pity. “If it weren’t for Hawke, that mage you saw me with on the highway, I would have drunk myself to death or drowned in whores by now.” Rising to his feet, the rogue added, “Well that’s all you need to know for the moment. Just for future reference, none of your mages are in any danger from me.”

“I never doubted it,” Aedan replied swiftly.

Tanner got up to leave but before he did so he added gruffly, “Not that it’s any of my business, but Leliana is right to be worried. Be careful with that one.” Aedan nodded as the two men glanced over towards Morrigan’s tent, then the warden watched him leave to gather more wood for the fire before taking the first watch for the night.

The rest of the night went by rather more smoothly, his companions talking to one another and forming their own cliquey groups. Alistair was among neither of those groups, instead opting to sit by the fire next to Aedan. The two talked a bit more about themselves and Aedan decided now was the time to explain what happened at Highever Castle.

Needless to say Alistair was horrified. “By the Maker, that’s, that’s, that bastard!” 

“Yes, and when I find Howe, I’m going to end him. Painfully,” Aedan surmised darkly.

Alistair looked at him for a few moments, lost for words. Then he shook his head. “I will help you get revenge and right this wrong, I swear it, though we must do all we can to stop the Blight from spreading first.”

“Yes, of course, though you must know that if I see a chance to have my revenge, I will take it,” Aedan replied.

Alistair could hardly blame him. “That’s fair. Thank you for telling me all of that Aedan, it can’t have been easy to talk about.” He yawned then. “Well I’m going to get some shut eye, night.”

“Good night, Alistair.” Aedan said, ready to roll over himself. As he turned back to his own tent, ready to retire for the evening, the warden saw Aleta and Sten over by the giant’s tent, deep in conversation and he was surprised to see the mage touch his face, and even more stunned to witness Sten sanction such a gesture. What could the two of them possibly have in common? he wondered.

* * * * *

The company packed up their things early the morning after next, Aedan figured a day of solid rest couldn’t hurt, and as it turned out, it seemed to be what everyone needed. For himself, Aedan took time out to reflect on the journey so far. He thought about his late mother and father, sister-in-law and nephew. Even though he had never really believed in the Maker or his plans, the young noble hoped they were in a nice place, free of pain and grief. He hadn’t quite made his peace with their death or his guilt, but after opening up to Alistair last night, the weight felt a bit lighter on his heart.

His other companions also took time out for themselves and some, even for each other. The newest addition, Wynne, was a great boon to the party, being an experienced healer. She was the sage grandmother of the group, and after a lengthy conversation, the wardens were both honoured and surprised to know she had passed up being First Enchanter to join them. Aedan had wondered how she could pass up such an oppourtunity, but she seemed to just shrug it off, she had too much to do, apparently. Wynne was instructing Aleta the finer points of healing, and by the looks of it, she was quickly getting the hang of it. Wynne also took great affection in chastising Alistair and Aedan about their personal hygiene and cooking skills. What could they say, they’re warriors not maids! She was especially attached to Tanner, taking it upon herself to check on him every so often. The rogue himself didn’t seem to mind, it was scoring him points with Leliana!

Morrigan, as usual, ignored the rest of them. She spent her one day of rest enthralled in the grimoire Aedan found in Irving’s office, when she wasn’t casting wanting eyes at the warden. Alistair especially found this refreshing, commenting on how nice it was not to have to listen to insults or needless sarcasm for once.

Leliana began to open up a bit more. She told Aedan all about her life in Orlais and he found himself fascinated by how well she could weave a story, not to mention a little surprised about her life as a bard. She had taken a keen interest in Aleta, strictly in a sisterly sense, and Aedan often found them together talking or trading stories, when she wasn’t flirting outrageously with Tanner.

Tanner kept up his good humour but there was no more mention of his past, though Aedan did have a couple of questions. For one, how had he stayed married to a mage without the Circle or Chantry finding out? And what about his friend Hawke? How did he not get noticed? Tanner did however, open up about his skills and training. He had an uncle that was exceptionally good with a blade and crossbow and taught him a lot about strategy and hunting. He was also an only child and had travelled to many countries, Orlais, Tevinter and the Free Marches in particular were among his favourites. He spent most of his day comparing tales and archery skills with Leliana, and Aedan could only shake his head, unsurprised, when he saw the rogue cop a feel of her backside as she lined up a shot by the river where they had set up their practise dummies. The man was shameless!

Aleta still remained a mystery to him. She had divulged more about herself, being the only human in a Dalish clan but not knowing why. She had been passed along to another clan at the Arlathvhen, the Dalish term used when the clans meet up, Aedan had learned, though she refused to embellish any details regarding what happens after meeting or when it takes place. The only hint she had to go on regarding her heritage was a so called promise that had been made on her behalf before she was born and the sapphire jewel that hung around her neck – a gift her mother had left with her. She seemed so lost, with no direction or purpose. She clung to her Dalish teachings as though they were her only lifeline – it was sad really. Aedan didn’t really know how to help her but he vowed he would try, after all this was a big world and she would fit in somewhere. Something else that had not escaped the wardens’ notice was how taken she was with Sten, and if his eyesight was on par, the giant didn’t spurn the subtle ardor either. Aedan wasn’t sure if anyone else knew or not but he thought it best to keep it quiet, after all he could be wrong. That and he didn’t have the heart to tell Alistair, who still hadn’t given up on her yet.

Alistair. If he had grown fond of anyone here, it would have to be him. He was like the best friend Aedan always wanted, though being noble, one was never short of friends, however, friends that stayed true and didn’t get caught up in the political games and intrigues was rare, almost impossible really. Alistair didn’t push when Aedan asked and prodded just at the right time. He was sensitive to Aedan’s moods and when he had opened up and told him about his life prior to becoming a warden, Alistair didn’t treat him any differently. Aedan suspected there was something in his past just as volatile. That and he had a common hate for Loghain also.

Sten was just as quiet as ever. He still was as unapproachable as ever, unless the person talking to him was Aleta or Aedan. He and Aleta had disappeared for an hour or so just after dawn that morning. Aedan thought about asking where they’d been but decided to give them privacy. Sten and he did have a conversation about Aedan’s leadership though. He told the warden that he was not as callow as he once thought. Aedan stated that he wasn’t here to impress him and that seemed to make the Qunari think better of him. There had been no remarks about his leadership since.

That night the two wardens had decided to travel to the undercity empire of the dwarves, Orzammar. It would take about six days travel from the coast of Lake Calenhad, where they had made camp last, and so that’s where they now were. On the second day on the dusty road they encountered a city elf running frantically toward them. After she had flagged the company down she explained her plight. “Please! You must help! Our wagon was attacked by bandits and there are children among us! They’re still there right now!”

Aedan looked to the others then back to the elf. “Take us there.” Not more than a few minutes later they were at the site. There was an upturned wagon with goods spilled everywhere, but no-one else in sight. Alistair turned to the elf, about to say something when he stopped himself. She had this twisted look on her face and Alistair felt his gut tighten. They’d been led into a trap. His companions seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he saw them reach for their weapons. They watched as she ran up to the wagon and another elf came into view. He was blonde and tanned with twin wavy tattoos on his left cheek. He smiled at the other elf and then turned his attention to Alistair and his companions. Pulling out his twin blades he yelled quite arrogantly, “The Warden dies here!” The next thing he knew other bandits leaped from the bushes and some charged them from behind.

Alistair, Sten, Jovey and Aedan made a protective ring around the mages and held off the incoming arrows. Wynne froze an immediate group with her cone of cold spell and Morrigan used her cone of fire on the opposite side. Now that they had room to move, Sten, Alistair and Aedan charged the remaining groups that their spell casters couldn’t reach. 

Leliana and Tanner fanned out, trying to reach higher ground so they could rain down bolts and arrows, but at the same time needed a vantage point where they could snipe anyone that got too close to the mages. Once positioned, they were able to pick off their targets easily. That was until the tanned elf saw what they were up to. He signalled a few other archers that were close by to focus on them, preventing the duo from becoming effective. Leliana and Tanner were forced to return fire, glancing frantically between the incoming arrows and the mages below, praying that they could take care of themselves.

Alistair sent a group of them flying with the weight of his shield, and Aedan elbowed another, dropping him to the floor and stomped on his face, hard. Once he heard his jaw and nose break Aedan knew he wouldn’t be getting back up for more and drew his attention elsewhere. Sten was carving his way up the slope, sending every opponent sailing off the side in an attempt to reach the archers that were at the highest elevation. The tanned elf, who Aedan assumed was the ringleader, was shouting orders in what he recognised as Antivan. He was a quick little bastard. 

In the blink of an eye, he had moved from his position of the wagon and had nearly reached the vulnerable mages. Aedan cursed as he did a three sixty and rushed him, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to make it in time. Morrigan was the first to realise what was going on and yelled, “He is coming, defend yourselves, you fools!” The other two looked around them and their eyes widened in fear as he took a swipe at Aleta. Instinctively, she shielded her face with her hands and then they all heard the blade clash with rock. The elf stared at her in complete astonishment; her whole body had turned to stone! 

“Now! Do it now Warden!” Wynne exclaimed. Aedan nodded and took this unexpected moment of weakness and smacked him in the back of the head with the butt of his blade and the bandit fell to the ground hard. Sten and Alistair finished off what was left of the others and joined them.

After a short while Aedan slapped the elf back into consciousness. He moaned a little and squinted, clutching his head. “Mmm…what…I oh. I rather thought I would wake up dead. Or not wake up at all, as the case may be. But I see you haven’t killed me yet.”

Aedan glared at him, arms crossed. “That could be arranged.”

“Of that I have no doubt. You are most skilled. If you haven’t killed me, however, you must have kept me alive for some purpose, yes?” He stared back up at the warden, not really seeming to care at this point whether he was alive or dead. 

“You are very blasé for someone who almost met his Maker.” Alistair growled.

“It is my way, or so I am told. Let’s see, then. I assume you’ve kept me alive to ask me some questions, yes? Let me save you time and just get right to the point. My name is Zevran, Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, bought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens. Which I have failed at, sadly,” he sighed, setting himself upright.

They were being hunted and assassinated? Unbelievable! “What the hell are these Antivan Crows?” Aedan asked, cocking his head to the side. 

But before Zevran could reply, Leliana spoke up. “I can tell you that. They are an order out of Antiva. Very powerful and renowned for getting the job done, so to speak. Someone went to great expense to hire this man.”

“Quite right,” Zevran said. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of the Crows out here. But where I come from, we’re rather infamous.”

Aedan didn’t give a damn where he came from, he wanted to know who hired him, though he had a gut feeling he already knew. “Who hired you?”

Zevran shrugged. “A rather taciturn fellow in the capital. Loghain, I think his name was. Yes, that’s it.”

At the very same time Alistair and Aedan cursed. “Son of a bitch!” Morrigan raised an eyebrow at them and Wynne gave them a reprimanding glare to which Alistair sheepishly apologised. Aedan did not. “When were you to see him next?”

Zevran looked from Aedan to Alistair, but didn’t mention the outburst. “I wasn’t. If I had succeeded I would have returned home and the Crows would have informed your Loghain of the results….if he already didn’t know. If I had failed, I would be dead. Or should be as far as the Crows are concerned. No need to see Loghain then.”

Aedan let this process. So Loghain still wanted a piece of them then? Well that’s good because the warden couldn’t wait to smash his face in. Besides, at least now they knew Loghain hadn’t given up and if this is what they could expect from the regent from now on, he wouldn’t be fighting fair. He had made his move and Aedan knew how this was going to play out. The next thing to decide was what he was going to do with this elf. He obviously was very skilled and more than adequate with a blade. He needed to know the assassins’ motives. “Does that mean you’re loyal to Loghain?”

“I have no idea what his issues are with you. The usual I imagine. You threaten his power, yes? Beyond that, no, I am not loyal to him. I was contracted to provide a service.” He leaned back rather casually as he spoke, sounding almost amused.

Aedan looked him up and down, assessing his demeanour. “Are you at least loyal to your employers?” 

He cut the crap now. Sitting very still, he said seriously, “Loyalty is an interesting concept. If you wish, and you’re done interrogating me, we can discuss it further.”

“I’m listening,” Aedan replied.

“Well, here’s the thing. I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That’s how it works. If you don’t kill me than the Crows will. Thing is, I like living and you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So let me serve you, instead.”

Aedan thought about this a little more and since he was already considering this avenue already he decided to play his hand. “And what’s to stop you from finishing the job later?”

“To be completely honest, I was never given much choice in regards to joining the Crows. They bought me on the slave market when I was a child. I think I paid my worth back to them plus tenfold. The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can’t touch. Even if I did kill you now, they might kill me just on principle for failing to kill you the first time. Honestly, I’d rather just take my chances with you.” He actually laughed at his irony.

“Can I expect the same loyalty from you?” Aedan asked, already making his decision. 

“I happen to be a very loyal person. Up until the point where someone expects me to die for failing! That’s not a fault, really, is it? I mean unless you’re the sort who would do the same thing, in which case I… don’t come very well recommended, I suppose,” he chuckled.

“What do you want in return?” This time it was Sten who spoke up, clearly disapproving of this assassin.

Zevran eyed him up and down with a slightly worried glance then turned back to the warden. “Well, let’s see. Being allowed to live might be nice and would make me marginally more useful to you. And somewhere down the line if you should decide that you no longer have need of me, then I go on my way. Until then I am yours, is that fair?”

“Tell me of your talents, Zevran. I need to know if having you would be worth the risk,” Aedan replied seriously.

“I am skilled in many things, from fighting to stealth and picking locks. I could also warn you in case the Crows attempt something more… sophisticated now that my attempt has failed.” He waited for Aedan to say something immediately and when the warden was hesitant he added, “So? What shall it be? I’ll shine armour. You won’t find a better deal, I promise.”

Aedan thought he heard Alistair mumble, “Yeah right,” under his breath but he ignored him. 

“Alright, welcome aboard Zevran.” Aedan extended his arm and he took it. 

At that same moment Alistair decided to blurt his thoughts. “What! You’re taking the assassin with us now? Does that really seem like a good idea?”

“Agreed,” Sten nodded.

“Seconded,” Tanner added, keeping his eyes trained on the Antivan Crow.

Aedan turned to the three of them. “We need him and his skills. It will work out. Plus he’ll have dirt on Loghain.” 

This seemed to calm Alistair and Sten but Tanner not so much. The older rogue stepped forward and eye balled Zevran. “You look like a shifty little prick to me. I’ll be watching you, Crow.”

Zevran smirked up at him. “As you wish.”

Frowning at Tanner, Alistair said with a nod, “Alright, I see your point. Still if there were a sign that we were desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said hello.” 

Sten only grunted but kept a watchful eye on him and none of the mages seemed to mind, with only Morrigan saying, “I would watch what goes into your food from now on if I were you.”

And Leliana said smiling, “Welcome Zevran. Having an Antivan Crow joining us sounds like a fine plan.”

Zevran looked her up and down, clearly checking her out. “Oh? You are another companion-to-be then? I wasn’t aware such loveliness existed amongst adventurers, surely.” 

Leliana frowned. “Or maybe not.”

He backtracked a bit when he saw Tanner’s fingers twitch at his belt. “Like I said, Crow, I'll be watching you.”

Zevran turned to Aedan and said seriously, “I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation…this I swear.”

* * * * *

The sixth day ended the long trek to the snowy mountains of Orzammar. The closer they came they saw huge stone statues of dwarves holding hammers. They ascended the mountain and crossed a bridge only to encounter a quartet of thieves. They didn’t even want to trade insults, just charged the group on sight. That was fine by Aedan, a bit of gore for breakfast was good for the soul, well his anyway. Alistair and Aedan dispatched the two warriors and Zevran took out the archer before he could even fire. The remaining mage turned to run but with hearty laugh Morrigan chased him down with a fireball. Sten, who hadn’t bothered to even lift his sword snorted, “Pathetic.”

Once they reached the main square of Orzammar’s surface it was all hustle and bustle. There were merchants of all common races hawking their wares from swords to shields, gems to potions. There was people arguing and haggling prices with the stall vendors and right in the centre stood the local gossipers. But they were here to get inside not stay out in this freezing market. Right ahead of them stood two massive stone doors and on either side of those stood a dwarven guard, one having a heated argument with a group of finely dressed humans.

They were about to go up and greet the guard at the gates when Aleta asked, “Could you give us a moment please?” Confused, Aedan nodded and watched Aleta move towards one of the vendor stalls, Sten shadowing her every step. 

She seemed to be inquiring about something and when Aedan saw Sten reach out and grab the merchant’s shirt and lift him off the ground he automatically reached for his blade, ready to intervene. Before he could unsheathe it, however, the warden felt Leliana’s palm on his chest. She moved in closer to whisper in his ear, “Do not fear, Grey Warden. Aleta will not let the man die.” Aedan continued to watch as Leliana’s words came true. Aleta touched Sten’s arm delicately, saying something to him. She must have rbeen pretty persuasive, because Sten turned to her and nodded before lowering the petrified merchant to the ground. The pathetic man nodded vigorously at something else Aleta said, a look of utter terror on his face as he backed away from the two quickly. It took him only seconds to disappear into the crowds. 

As Sten and Aleta turned to join the group Aedan asked, “What was that all about?”

“Umm?” Aleta turned to Sten, seeming unsure of how to answer.

“I had an inquiry about a Qunari matter. It is irrelevant to the mission at hand,” he said, clearly not wanting to discuss it. That answer should not have taken him by surprise, but Aedan was insulted all the same. Deciding that he would press her for an explanation later Aedan shrugged his shoulders, trying to seem indifferent. Aleta and Sten fell into line with the others and they approached the guards and the noble looking humans.

“I don’t care who you are. The Assembly is deadlocked and until a new king is elected none shall enter Orzammar.” The guard said in a tone clearly meant to imply finality. 

“Ridiculous! By the order of King Loghain I demand you open your gates to us!” The leader exclaimed. “We are on important business!”

“I don’t care if you’re the king’s wiper, none are allowed entry. Now be gone, human.” The guard then turned his attention on Aedan and Alistair’s group. “Didn’t you hear?”

“Oh I heard. We’re here to see your king or whoever is in charge presently. Its Grey Warden business and Orzammar is obligated to allow us entry.” Aedan handed over the documents and the guard flicked through them, occasionally glancing up at them. After a long pause he said, “Very well Grey Warden, you can all enter. However – ’’

“What?! You will allow Grey Warden traitors into your city but not Denerim ambassadors?!” The finely dressed man yelped.

Aedan rounded on him. “Watch who you call traitor, scum bag. We were at Ostagar and saw Loghain’s betrayal of the king.”

But it seemed this man was hell bent on dying today. “You filth! King Loghain saved what was left of King Cailan’s subjects! If it weren’t for Loghain - urk!”

Aedan was only half surprised to see Alistair gut the disillusioned bastard. “What? You weren’t honestly going to allow him to continue his rant were you?” Alistair said innocently.

“No, but I’m shocked you beat me to it.” Aedan nodded respectfully at him then turned on the other men with the ambassador, his bodyguards. “So, what’ll it be then boys?”

They chose option B. “For King Loghain!!” They rushed them all at once. It seemed this was more of a fight for Sten as he raised his blade and sliced at a bodyguard with a shield, shattering it with one blow. The guard cried out in surprise then pulled out twin daggers and tried flanking him. He probably would have got the hit in too if it weren’t for the lightning reflexes of Zevran. He threw a dagger from behind the giant and it caught in the guard’s windpipe. The Qunari spun around and glared at the assassin. 

Zevran winked at him. “Don’t sweat it, my friend.” And with another blink of the eye, he was gone again. A little further on Aedan was taking on three others with twin long blades. It was a tough fight. A soon as he parried one guard, another was on him. Aedan would knock him to the ground only to be faced with another. One of them actually got a chop in. He felt pain sear in his leg but ignored it. The warden head butted the guard that got the hit in and he fell to the ground and Aedan fell with him, punching him hard in the face. 

By this time, Alistair had dispatched one of the three archers and quickly headed over to give his warden brother a hand. Now that they were at even odds the guards didn’t seem as enthusiastic as before. They parried their blades and Aedan even thought at one stage it would be a stalemate, but at the last minute his strength broke and the warden disarmed him. One slice across his neck was all that was needed and he too fell with his comrades in the snow. Looking around him, Aedan saw there was no one left, the remaining archers lay near the entrance of the door with arrows and bolts in their chest. He looked up at Leliana and Tanner and saw them grinning from ear to ear. Obviously this was their handiwork, and judging by where the arrows and bolts had entered, it had been a contest. 

So, with everyone gathered, they headed back up the steps and said to the guard who had been watching the display, “Well? Can we go in now?”

The guard smirked and stepped aside. “Welcome, Grey Warden.”


	11. Orzammar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's very cold in the snowy Frostback mountains, luckily for Aedan and the party they have an invitation to warm, underground Orzammar. Will they regret it? Probably! Cannon belongs to Bioware, Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Ten: Orzammar

Cousland’s first thought as he entered the gates was, _Maker it's dark in here_ . It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the bleakness, but once he could focus he noticed that they were in a huge hall carved from rock. Looking around the room Aedan noticed huge protruding stones with magma overflowing from them. It looked like a waterfall, a very fancy waterfall. Made of lava. As he led his company further in he noticed more statues like the ones outside, however these looked like they were in better condition. Aedan found himself admiring the work of the dwarves. For such little people they could perform extraordinary feats. 

“That is a bust of the great Paragon, Branka.” The warden turned to see an elderly man with a bad leg limp beside him. “She’s ahead of her time, that one.” 

Aedan looked down at him and asked, “Paragon?”

The little man glared up at him and huffed, “For the love of the Ancestors! If you really have to be our Grey Warden, you should at least know the people you serve!” He shook his head and pointed further in. “You go to the Commons and then take a walk around the Diamond Quarter, visit the Shaperate and learn something!” And with more muttering and cursing he hobbled off.

“Well that was rude!” Alistair exclaimed with an amused chuckle. “What if you’ve never been here before? I bet they give all the newbie’s that speech!” Leliana, Zevran and Aedan chuckled but Wynne especially was not amused.

“He has a point, Aedan. You really should get to know the people you are serving, at least some of their customs.” She stood beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s a sign of respect.”

Inwardly the warden groaned. He hated it when he was getting berated. As a noble, it was expected that the only people who knew more than they were royalty, however Bryce and Eleanor Cousland had been much more humble, and always preached there was room for improvement in everyone. Remembering his parents’ lessons echoing in the back of his mind Aedan nodded in agreement and proceeded further into the level of Orzammar. At the entry level of the Commons they and an angry mob were witness to a volatile argument between two dwarves, one a younger looking noble and the other, a much older looking politician.

“It is the Assembly who makes a King, and a King who nominates his successor. None of it is carried in the blood.” The older dwarf stepped forward, his arms crossed.

Next came forth the younger dwarf, saying forcefully, “Or, as now, when someone tries using the Assembly to pull a coup. Who’s to say what my father said in his final hours when the usurper Harrowmont was the only one by his side?”

Harrowmont was outraged. “I’ll have you thrown in prison!”

“You’ve bitten off more than you can chew!” the younger dwarf yelled, shaking his fist.

Just then a city guard stepped forward and tried to control the heated situation. “Handlers, separate these deshyrs in the Diamond Quarter! I will not have Bhelen incite a riot!”

Another dwarf stepped forward. From the looks of him, he seamed to be some sort of bodyguard to this Bhelen. He drew his weapon and snarled, “Do not talk that way about the man who should be King!” He then raised his blade and struck down the guard in cold blood. Once there was blood on the floor, everyone came to their senses and departed. Aedan stood there, stunned.

Just as he was collecting his thoughts another member of the city guard came forward to the new arrivals and demanded to know who they were. “Grey Wardens, good dwarf.” Aedan replied smoothly. He extended his hand but the guard only glared at the gesture. Aedan turned to Wynne with an I told you so glance. She frowned and waved him on.

“What just happened?” Alistair asked, trying to ease the awkwardness. 

The guard rounded on him next. “This is exactly why we do not allow surfaces into Orzammar while there is no King. You would think we’re all barbarians.”

“No, that is not what we think, I assure you!” Leliana cried.

“I do not care what you think, human.” He eyed her up and down, clearly not impressed with her efforts either. “So, you’re Grey Wardens then? The lot of you?”

“No,” Aedan said. “Just Alistair and I, and these are my companions. We need the aid of the dwarves against the Blight. Who is in charge while you are voting on a King?”

“That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said so far, boy. The Assembly is in control at the moment, but you will not get any aid from them as the vote is their first priority. You might want to try talking with Lords Harrowmont or Bhelen. Otherwise pass the time in the Provings.” He thumbed to the great coliseum behind him.

“I doubt either of them is stable,” Alistair mumbled to his fellow warden. “Our best bet is to see the Assembly for ourselves, then decide what to do after that.” Aedan thanked the guard and they left the area, only stopping to ask directions to the Diamond Quarter.

Once they were upstairs in the Diamond Quarter they passed the palace and the noble quarters and the Shaperate to finally reach the Assembly. Aedan and Alistair pushed the great stone doors forward. The only thing they heard was shouting. Obviously these two candidates, Bhelen and Harrowmont, were a hot topic. Some of the nobles were fiercely loyal, even hurling death threats and heinous insults. It wasn’t until one voice was heard above them all and he called for a recess. 

They waited in the hall for the man to come out. He looked very old and very weary. He introduced himself as Steward Bandelor. “I am sorry you had to hear that. Unfortunately the Assembly is in no condition to listen to your plight. They’re too busy bickering amongst themselves. This will be a long process and until a new king is elected that is how things will stay. My apologies, Grey Wardens.”

Alistair sighed in frustration. These dwarves were fast getting on his nerves. How hard could it be? There was a Blight going on up on the surface for Andraste’s sake! “What do you suggest we do then, Steward? We have much to do and not a great deal of time to do it in.”

Bandelor sighed too. “I know, but as I said nothing can be decided until a new king is chosen. However, we could speed things up if you would aid us?”

“Anything to hurry this along,” Aedan nodded eagerly.

The Steward nodded as well. “If you were to perhaps help one of the candidates gain favour with the Ancestors that would greatly bolster his chances in the Assembly.”

Zevran put a hand on Aedan’s shoulder. “I’ve seen much of these politics in Antiva. Taking sides will not go down well, my friend.”

The warden took his point of view into consideration but he realised the Steward was right. Nothing would get done if nothing was allowed to happen. “Thank you Zevran, but what choice do we have?” The assassin only shrugged. “Where would we find these candidates?”

“Bhelen is the last surviving heir to old King Endrin. He and his second can be found in the palace. Lord Harrowmont has his own estate at the end of the Diamond Quarter and his second can be found not too far from there.”

Aedan and Alistair thanked him and departed the Assembly. On their way out the group was approached by a dwarf that Aedan recognised earlier from the bloody scene when they first entered Orzammar. He had stood by Harrowmont in a protective stance. Aedan gripped his sword, just in case. “Hold there, human. I am Dulin, Harrowmont’s second. I would speak with you.”

Cautiously Aedan lowered his blade hand and asked, “What could you tell me that Harrowmont himself cannot?”

Dulin came closer and replied, “His Lordship is fearful for his life and cannot meet you. He needs to know you can be trusted before he will grant you an audience.” 

This was getting far out of hand. The warden was glad that he was not a dwarf! “Very well, what do you want?”

Dulin stroked his beard and eyed him up and down, as if assessing his worth. It was a long time before he spoke. “Lord Harrowmont believes that you can aid Orzammar during it’s, er, transition. He asks that you perform a small service in his name and he will then gladly open his doors at his estate for you.”

Cousland turned to the others. “Thoughts?”

Alistair shrugged. “I really don’t care which way we go. Either way Zevran is right, this won’t end well.” Zevran made his opinion clear as well. Morrigan seemed to agree with him also and Wynne said, “Lord Harrowmont seems the most approachable, and calm.”

Leliana nodded. “I agree with Wynne.” Aedan turned to Aleta and Sten and was a little surprised to see them standing so close to each other. They didn’t seem to be worried either way, just stared back at him.

Tanner glared at the warden. “You’re a fool to get involved with these games, warden, but I’ll follow your lead.”

Aedan turned back to Dulin and nodded. “Alright, Dulin. What is this small service going to be and how much is it going to cost me?”

The dwarf crossed his arms and said grimly, “There are two parts to it. First Lord Harrowmont needs you to find out why two of his fighters have pulled out of today’s Proving and to get them back into the ring if you can. Second, you need to win the tournament in his Lordship’s name.”

“No pressure, mate!” Alistair exclaimed, to which Morrigan rolled her eyes. 

“How does this Proving work?” Aedan asked cautiously. He enjoyed a friendly scuffle as well as the next soldier, but if this was anything like their politics he’d like to be informed beforehand. 

“Normally it’s one fighter per match but things can get shaken up from time to time, for variety. First blood will win you the match, however killing is forbidden and will be classed as dishonorable and cheating. You will either be killed yourself or possibly exiled, Grey Warden or not. Usually death. And that’s more or less the gist of it. Questions?” Dulin smirked.

“Nope.” That was pretty straight forward, just the way he liked it. “Right, so where do we go to sign up?”

“Take a left once you get to the end of the Diamond Quarter to return to the Commons and it’s on the middle island, in the centre of Orzammar. I’ll be at the Tapsters Tavern in the Commons if you return. Good luck Grey Warden.” And in saying that he turned and left.

“Alright then, you heard the man, to the Proving Grounds!” Alistair declared with a grin. Wise ass. 

On the way down to the Commons the group watched as a red headed dwarf harassed a city guard, he was pretty steamed, and drunk. “You sodding bunch of nug-humpers! Go out and look for her! _‘Hic!_ ” 

The guard didn’t seem too worried. “Go sleep it off Oghren. You’re making a fool of yourself, again.” He waved him on but the red head grabbed his hand and crushed it. Obviously he wasn’t too un-co. 

“Don’t patronize me, whelp! I’m twice the dwarf than any – ‘ _hic_ – of you cave lickers!” He let the guard go, shoving him hard.

The guard drew his weapon. “No wonder Branka left you! Get the hell out of here, Oghren, before I change my mind.”

Muttering under his breath, Oghren stumbled away. Aedan made his way over to the guard who was rubbing his hand. “What the hell was that all about?”

The guard rolled his eyes. “Every month Oghren comes over and harasses the city guard to go find his wife. She went into the Deep Roads two years ago and didn’t tell anyone why. Poor bastard. He’s been a wreck ever since.”

“The poor man.” Aleta said quietly. “Why did she leave him?”

The guard snorted. “You saw him. Who wouldn’t?” Aleta glared at him and the guard frowned. 

“Ease up there, little lady. Oghren was one hell of a fighter in his day, but now he’s a drunk washed up has-been. He killed a man in the Proving’s because that poor sod insulted his honor, he’s crazy. Oghren was stripped of his Warrior Caste title and should consider himself lucky not to have been exiled. To us dwarves that is a fate worse than death.”

“And even though he has all these past achievements, they mean naught now? If that’s how you treat your honored heroes it’s no wonder he turned to drink! You disgust me.” She really was ticked, and Aedan found himself wondering why.

Everyone turned to face her, except Sten, with bewildered looks. She just glared right back, arms crossed. Aedan thought about it some more and realised she must have been thinking about Zathrian. When they left the Brecillian Forest, not all the elves were happy upon discovering their Keeper’s secret of ‘immortality’, despite all the good he’d accomplished, and had wiped him. Aedan remembered one of the conversations they’d had back in camp about it. She had been furious then and obviously still was now. But to make that connection with this drunk? “Aleta, these circumstances are not the same. We don’t even know this Oghren.” He put a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged him away. 

Aedan wanted to say something further but Sten blocked his path. “She will not see your point of view, warden. Leave her be.” Was it his imagination or did Aedan detect a hint of protectiveness in the Qunari’s tone? Cousland turned to the others who were watching the exchange, intrigued. Well if she was going to be this stubborn then he would just let it go, after all this drunk wasn’t anyone important and they wouldn’t be meeting again. “As you wish. Let’s keep moving.”

Aedan and Alistair led the company out of the Diamond Quarter and into the Commons. The Proving Ground was easy enough to find; the tallest, widest building in Orzammar, and they found themselves in the bowels of it speaking to the organiser. He directed them to Harrowmont’s fighters. Their issues were simple enough. One had been bullied out of the tournament and the other blackmailed. They righted these wrongs and then entered the tournament. The organiser informed Aedan that only one of them could enter unless the match stipulated otherwise. The noble worked his blade arm in relaxing circles and cracked his neck as he waited for them to call him out into the ring.

Aedan’s first match was against a stout dwarf of the Warrior Caste, Seweryn. It wasn’t the hardest match he’d ever had, but the experienced warrior didn’t exactly cut him down in one chop either. The next match was a little more challenging. He faced a male and female set of twins, one with a sword and shield the other two swords. Myaja and Lucjan were also with the Warrior Caste and fought right to the bitter end. Aedan walked away with a bleeding nose, a few loose teeth and one hell of an adrenaline rush. They were carted out on stretchers.

The warden’s last single match was against Hanashan, one of the Silent Sisters, an order of female warriors that cut out their tongue as an honour to their founder. She was by far the most invigorating fighter he’d come across in a while. She wielded a great sword and moved across the field with ease. They parried a few times and as she brought her blade hurling to the ground and Cousland rolled out of the way just in time. The crowd cheered and he found himself revelling in the spotlight. Aedan readied his blade and shield and charged at her. As she fell to the ground he slammed his shield into her gut and the wind was knocked right out of her. He brought his blade to her neck and halted, the match was over.

Aedan’s third match was interesting. He discovered that noble dwarves walked the ancient halls of Orzammar with a second, a type of bodyguard, and it was against Wojech Ivo and his second, Velanz that he got to choose his own second. Naturally it was Alistair. They worked very well together. As Aedan charged Wojech, Alistair took the heat away from his team mate and flanked Velanz. As the clinking of their blades clashed they found themselves evenly matched and when Aedan’s opponent threw in a random bash of his shield, he found himself unexpectedly dazed and thrown in the dirt.

Cursing, Aedan threw his shield up blindly as he felt the full brunt of Wojech’s strength. The noble was beginning to think he’d done more damage than expected, and when the warden saw two of him, he cursed again - he had a damned concussion. Somewhere around him, Aedan could hear Alistair call his name and in the next moment Aedan felt himself be pulled roughly from the ground. “Pull yourself together, man! Block!” It was Alistair in his ear and he did as was commanded. 

Cousland shook his head, dizzy beyond belief and dropped his blade. It was the only way he could hang onto his shield properly. Alistair cursed before kicking one of them out of the way and rammed him into the wall. After a few moments of non-contact Aedan assumed the battle was over and when he heard the crowd cheer again he smiled. He then felt Alistair slap him on the back. “You look like crap you know,” he joked.

“Thanks mate.” Aedan slapped him back and Alistair helped his companion to their area where Wynne healed them up, muttering about how this was so unnecessary to see one noble. Aedan was granted a few more minuets before he was summoned back into the arena.

This was going to be the last match and it was obvious they had saved the best for last. It was a squad on squad match, led by a cousin of Bhelen himself, Piotin Aeducan, and Aedan had to laugh when he heard Zevran comment, “Finally, some action!” Considering he was once going to kill them, Aedan found himself liking him anyway. The overseer explained that Piotin had never lost and as he was listening to the rest of his rep, Alistair and Aedan sparred. 

Finally it was time to battle. Aedan thought they were usually pretty good off the bat but Piotin had obviously done this more than once. He beat them to the punch and he and his men were on Aedan’s squad in a heartbeat. Piotin and his second charged the wardens while his two other swordsman took on Sten. Leliana and Tanner picked off the snipers in the back row attempting to take cover behind some pillars. Zevran didn’t stray too far from the mages, dismembering any that came too close, though this didn’t please Tanner or Aleta especially any. She still hadn’t forgotten he had tried to kill her. The mages themselves held back a great deal. Considering this was a physical fight rather than a magical one, the umpire declared they were to only use basic spells and healing was forbidden.

The sheer number of fighters in the arena drove the crowd wild and the treat of watching mages caught them in a frenzy. Piotin’s group was impressive. They were synchronised and heavily fortified, not to mention being highly resistant to magic, withdrawing where necessary and attacking when they got a chance. But the challengers were pretty good too. Even though they weren’t in each others pockets they knew their way around a battlefield or two. Alistair and Aedan rammed Piotin on either sides with their shields and he came crashing down. His second received the same treatment. They turned to see Sten block both his adversary’s blades in one movement and fling their swords away. Now that they were disarmed, the great Qunari head butted them and the too fell, probably unconscious or in a coma. Tanner had pinned three of Piotin’s men to the wall and was now duelling an archer, who had been relieved of his crossbow by Morrigan’s scaled down fireball. It was grueling but the wardens’ squad was victorious. 

The umpire declared the win in the name of Lord Harrowmont and Aedan and Alistair collected the trophy. Whatever was going to happen with this Blight, no one could take this rush away from them. It was a good day to be alive.

The company strolled out of the Proving Grounds and into the Tapsters Tavern where they were met with cheers and good wishes. Obviously word travels fast in Orzammar! They went to a booth far in the back where they saw Dulin clapping his hands enthusiastically. “Well done Warden! Lord Harrowmont is exceptionally pleased and will see you now.” Tanner rolled his eyes, unimpressed. Dwarven politics!

Dulin led them back through the Diamond Quarter and into Lord Harrowmont’s estate. It was unlike any house of nobility Aedan had ever seen. Everything was miniature sized and when he looked out of the windows, all he saw was intricately carved stone or magma. Still, it was beautiful in its own way. After taking a few turns and passing many servants, they arrived at Lord Harrowmont’s private chambers. Dulin announced them and they were allowed entry.

As they approached him, Lord Harrowmont had his back to them, warming himself by a crackling fire. Slowly he turned to greet the group and Aedan noticed how old he appeared to be. He had a long white glorious beard and sad blue eyes. His tone was dull as he said, “Greetings, Grey Wardens. I am sorry you have come at such a bad time.”

“Thank you for seeing us. Hopefully we can get things back on track. The surface is facing a Blight and we shall need all the help we can get.” Aedan was tired of formalities but knew they were necessary. Dulin went to stand beside Harrowmont and crossed his arms.

Harrowmont himself sighed. “Yes, we have noticed there has been a decrease in the number of darkspawn down in the Deep Roads. We had assumed as much. But you must understand, we dwarves have been battling these creatures for centuries. Most welcome the pause and are not in a hurry to have them flood back down here. However, we are in such disarray that we cannot enjoy the brief moment of peace. Ironic, is it not?”

Aedan and Alistair glanced quickly at each other then turned their attention back to Harrowmont, they never thought about it like that. The new initiates of the order now had a deeper respect for what these people did. “Yes. I would like to know why all this secrecy? Why have you made us jump through so many hoops to see you?”

The old politician sighed deeply. “That is a long story, but to hasten the pace and quell the rumour mongers I will explain. Orzammar was not always in such disquiet. Yes our politics may seem to be quite unorthodox, however such is the way of life here.” He moved to sit by the fire, his physical self here but mentally he was miles away.

“Before this chaos started there was a king, a good, brave king. He had three sons, Bhelen being the youngest and never a contender for the throne; however, it was the throne that Prince Bhelen desired. He wanted it bad enough to murder his eldest brother and frame his middle brother for the crime. He took them both out in one sweep. He’s gone absolutely mad for his power struggle.” Harrowmont slowly came back to the present, and his voice became hard and bitter.

“However, in Orzammar, it’s not blood that makes a king, it’s the vote of the Assembly and whom they favor. A recommendation from the previous king weighs heavily, but ultimately it is they who decide. But I was with King Endrin when he died. I knew his wishes, and they were not to have Bhelen as king. I never wanted the throne, but if it is the only way to keep Bhelen from getting it, then so be it. Since I declared my rivalry, there have been threats, insults and calamity. Violence is the next step and I must protect myself.”

Aedan absorbed this slowly. Things really were getting out of hand here and the sooner he got the promised aid the better he would feel getting the hell out of here. As a noble he knew what it was like to live a life where he had to watch his back every single moment of every single day. No matter how well liked the Cousland’s were at court, nobles had enemies everywhere. “I understand your plight, Lord Harrowmont. How can we make you king of Orzammar?”

Harrowmont smiled then and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “A man of action I see. Very well if this is to be my course then I shall steer you into the fray. In Orzammar we do not have a religion of such. We pray to our Ancestors and one of the best ways to gain favor with the Assembly is to prove you have favor with the Ancestors.”

“Aah, it seems no matter how far you go, religion shall creep up and rear its ugly head.” Morrigan drawled. Harrowmont stared at her for a moment and decided to continue.

“Since the upheaval, the crime in the city has been astounding. I would like to have people believe I can get things done around here. There is a particular group of mobsters that cause this trouble. The Carta is run by a wild lass going by the alias Jarvia. If you were able to dispose of her and her Carta, I would be indebted to you, and if I am made king, you shall have the army of Orzammar fighting by your side.”

That sounded like an even trade, though Aedan had to wonder how many dwarves counted as an entire Carta. He nodded and they shook hands. “You have yourself a deal, Lord Harrowmont. Where can I find Jarvia and her Carta?” 

Harrowmont pulled out a map from one of his drawers and pointed to a small section. “She resides somewhere in Dust Town. That is where we put the Castless, if they do not go topside.” Aedan listened as he explained what the Castless were and found himself comparing them to the city elves of Denerim and other major cities he’d been to. Aedan didn’t have to ask what Aleta thought, he could feel her enmity from here but he had to ignore her to get the job done.

They left his estate soon after a hot meal and before long found themselves in Dust Town, which Aedan thought was appropriately named since everything here seemed to be filthy and falling apart. Everywhere they looked there was poverty and sickness, beggars and whores and merchants trying to hock their wares, probably stolen or worse. They ignored the stench and asked the people about Jarvia, however most of the time their questions were answered with frightened looks and some denied she even existed. 

They struck gold upon meeting another beggar in the middle of the plaza. Her name was Nadezda, and in exchange for a ten silvers she explained exactly where Jarvia could be found and that she used to run with her. Alistair thanked her and led the others into an old abandoned house. They were told that they would be jumped by a few of Jarvia’s men and when it came to be they were prepared. The group dispatched these fools quickly and left one alive so he could give them a key into the hideout. Aedan then slit his throat and they continued into the bowels of Jarvia’s retreat.

This tunnel had to be the longest, deepest most deadly one Aedan had ever been into. Everywhere they went there were traps on the floor, on the walls, hell even on the ceiling! He was eternally grateful to have three rogues in the party to spot and disarm them. And there were so many thugs in here, they were like darkspawn in the fact that they just kept coming from out of nowhere. “By the light of the Maker, there are so many of them!” Leliana gasped as she blocked a sword inches from her face. She flung the dwarf rogue backwards and with graceful movements she was on top of him and cut him open.

Wynne and Morrigan especially had to be careful with their magic, as these tunnels were winding and tight in some places. A group of rogues, some with bows and crossbows even, launched their volleys and with a frustrated groan, Morrigan launched a fireball at them, accidentally catching Alistair in the fray. “Hey! Watch it woman!” 

Morrigan only shrugged. “Then get out of the way, fool.” As he watched her turn to fry another dwarf Aedan thought he saw her grin. He would definitely have to reign her in and soon. They proceeded further down and the deeper they got the thicker the groups they encountered. Finally, they reached her headquarters and once they opened the door and saw how many bodyguards she had, Aedan realised just how difficult this fight was going to be.

Zevran turned to him. “There are traps everywhere. It will take all of us to disarm them,” he motioned at Tanner and Leliana, “but in us doing so, there will be none to protect the mages.” 

Morrigan snorted. “We are not helpless like children, elf. We can handle ourselves.” She eyed Aleta up and down sceptically. “At least two of us can.” 

Aleta glared at her, her staff crackling threateningly. Morrigan only laughed. “The fish are biting today!”

While this banter was happening Aedan was trying to think. These opponents were going to be fast and agile. While the mages were tough and could fend for themselves, they lacked the ability to fight in melee. They would need a bodyguard and he and Alistair would not be able to help them. Neither would Sten, the wardens needed him more. That left only one other. “Protect the mages, Jovey. It falls to you.” The mabari growled and then stood between Wynne and Aleta, understanding his masters’ commands easily. 

Morrigan rolled her eyes. “Wonderful.” Jovey growled at her but remained by their side. And that was all the time they had. Jarvia and her men were charging. Zevran, Tanner and Leliana dispersed quickly and headed for the traps, slicing and dicing as they went. Alistair and Aedan went for the archers and swordsman while Sten kept Jarvia occupied. The mages kept their distance; Aleta and Morrigan providing additional fire-power and Wynne in between them healing and using beneficial spells where necessary. 

It wasn’t long before the injuries began. Jarvia got the first hit in and Sten groaned as she sliced at his shoulder, tearing the chain mail apart and left him bleeding out. She then kicked his kneecaps and the mighty Qunari fell. Just as she was about to land the last lethal blow he tackled her to the ground. But that was about as far as he got. Three of her men fired arrows at him, and Sten howled in pain as two pierced his side and a third in his thigh. Aedan heard Aleta scream profanities in Dalish and they felt the ground shake. The Carta leader looked up to see the ceiling beginning to give way and some rolled to safety as chunks came crashing to the ground. Some others however, were not so lucky. In the confusion, Wynne quickly made her way to Sten to do what she could.

Meanwhile Alistair and Aedan got caught up in the earthquake too. Aedan’s shield and sword were wedged between two mounds of rock and he was left weapon less. Alistair fared worse though, his entire right side was caught beneath a pillar and Aedan tried to free him. By this time Leliana, Tanner and Zevran had disarmed all the traps in the room and took down what was left of the stragglers. They helped get Alistair out and Wynne came for him next. Aedan gathered his sword and shield and searched for Jarvia. 

The next thing he heard was Leliana scream, “Duck!” and the warden narrowly escaped an arrow whizzing by his ear. Aedan turned to see Jarvia glaring at him, fortified behind two fallen pillars. They couldn’t get to her easily and she knew it, trying to pick them off one by one. “I have an idea, Warden. Tanner, hold her off while I transform,” Morrigan said to the rogue. 

A little confused but eager to do some damage, he nodded. “Aye lass.”

The rest watched, Jarvia included, intrigued, as Morrigan twisted her form into the shape of a spider, almost the size of a human, and crawl up the walls and reach new heights they never could. It was then that Jarvia knew fear. Madly she fired arrows, trying to pierce the spider that was coming for her. Tanner provided the support Morrigan needed and Jarvia screamed in pain as the bolts pierced her flesh. It didn’t take Morrigan long to web her then bite, killing the Carta leader in one swift movement, tossing her head down to the crowd below. She then crawled back to her companions and transformed back into her original self.

Alistair provided the comment they were all thinking. “That was creepy, even for you.” Morrigan only smirked. Their next move was to get out of there and so Aedan took on most of Sten’s weight with Tanner’s help and Aleta and Morrigan combined their efforts to help Alistair walk. The look on his face was torn. Obviously he liked Aleta but not so much Morrigan and so leaning into both of them was as pleasant as it was painful! Leliana and Jovey led the way out followed closely by Zevran and Wynne brought up the rear. 

Battered, bruised and bloodied, they made their way back into Harrowmont’s estate and into his private chambers and Aedan threw Jarvia’s severed head onto his desk. Jumping as though he had been bitten by a snake he squeaked, “What in the name of the Ancestors do you think you’re doing?!”

“My job. Here is the proof that Jarvia is dead. Now, can I have my troops?” 

Harrowmont was completely flabbergasted. “I, what?”

Aedan was a little annoyed. They hadn’t even gotten the chance to bathe or eat yet, and he was thinking of going back on his word? “The army you promised me. You said once this Jarvia and her Carta were annihilated you would be king.”

Harrowmont nodded, calming down. “Yes I did promise that. But things have gone awry, forgive me Warden.” Not caring if his blood soaked through his precious furniture, the warden lumped himself in the comfiest chair he could find and listened to the politician ramble once more. “As soon as Prince Bhelen heard about the extermination of Jarvia’s Carta he raised the stakes. He’s forcing the Assembly to vote.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Alistair piped up, cringing as he cracked his leg by mistake. 

“Yes, but even though I’m now the favorite, I need to prove that the Ancestors are truly in my favor. There is a woman gone missing in the Deep Roads. Her name is Branka and she is our only living Paragon. If you were to go in there and find her, dead or alive it would show that the Ancestors guided my hand and Bhelen wouldn’t have a chance at the assembly. It would be a shoe in.” Harrowmont crossed his arms and looked pleadingly at them.

Before Aedan could say anything further Aleta said forcefully, “We accept.”

Morrigan looked incredulously at her. “Did the Grey Warden die and put you in charge, girl?”

For once Alistair agreed with her. “Yes, that does seem like a fool hardy plan of yours, Aleta.” 

“All of you shut up.” Aedan said turning to Harrowmont. “This is the last favour I do for you, Harrowmont. You owe me, and I will return to collect.” With that he rose to his feet. “We will also require a meal and hot water to bathe in.”

Delighted, Harrowmont nodded. “Of course, Dulin, please show the warden and his companions to the guest quarters.” Grunting his disapproval, Dulin did as he was commanded.

A few hours later they found themselves near the outskirts of Orzammar and Aedan was about to launch into his strategy when he approached by the same drunk he saw in the Diamond Quarter. Oghren he thought his name was. “Ho there! Grey Warden’s is it?” 

His breath smelled terrible and Aedan backed up a little just to breathe. “Yes. And you must be Oghren?”

“Sure am. I hear you’re going into the Deep Roads to find Branka? About sodding time! I’ll show you the way.” 

Oghren was about to turn around and march right in there but the warden grabbed his shoulder. “You are not coming with us.”

“What? The hell I ain’t! You lot’ll get yourselves killed! Besides I know what she was looking for. You need me, warden,” Oghren said, almost growling.

“Why do you care so much for a woman that deserted you, old man?” Zevran asked, clearly confused. “From what we hear, she took your entire household with her.”

Oghren grunted. “She is my wife. Wouldn’t you do the same?” 

Yeah, I would do the same. But then again, I’m not a drunk, Aedan thought. But apparently that’s all it took to win over Aleta. “Let him come, warden. He is a mighty warrior, and we need all the help we can get.” She smiled warmly at him and Oghren gave her an odd look before smiling back.

“Her request is reasonable, warden. We could use more blades.” Sten agreed. 

The more he thought about it the more it made sense. The others came around too and so he nodded. “You had better be useful, Oghren. And no drinking while you’re on the job.”

“Aye aye! Now Branka was looking for an item of legend, The Anvil of the Void. It was made by another Paragon of old, Caradin. If she’s anywhere in that rotten hole, it’d be in Caradin’s Cross. Did Harrowmont give you maps?” When Aedan and Alistair nodded he chuckled. “Great, follow me then!”


	12. The Deep Roads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Deep Roads. The remains of a civilization lost to time and memory. Will Aedan survive, even with one of Orzammar's own as his guide? All cannon belongs to Bioware. Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Eleven: The Deep Roads

Upon entering the dimly lit labyrinth that was the Deep Roads, Aedan felt a heavy feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. This place smelt of decay and death, not an encouraging thought considering the monumental task that stood before them. He knew that if they managed to stumble on the Paragon, for it would have to be by accident – she could be anywhere in this maze – the adept smith was likely dead. Who could survive two years in this endless black pit?

However, Oghren was adamant that she was still alive. “The sodding woman took our whole house down here for protection, and she’s more stubborn than an enraged bronto. She’s alive, warden – I feel it in here.” The short red-head slapped his gut and grunted resolutely. Aedan hadn’t the heart to argue.

The group had been following Oghren for roughly three days now, watching with interest as he felt along the indentations on the cavern walls seeming to be looking for something specific. When he laughed triumphantly, Aedan could only assume he had found what he was looking for. “Here wardens!” Aedan and Alistair stood beside the dwarf and examined the spot where his hands rested against the rock. “See here, where the grooves rise and fall in a triangular pattern, then along horizontally with the dots at the end? These are dwarven directions. They’re Branka’s, I know it. She was here I tell you!” 

“Wonderful,” Morrigan drawled. She did not appreciate the trek to Orzammar, and especially not what lie beneath. “Directions to _where_ , dwarf?”

Oghren squinted at her in the dark, ignoring her sarcasm and belched loudly before saying eagerly, “Ortan Thaig.” The small red-head bounded ahead of them, eager to find his estranged wife and it was all they could do to keep up.

They moved through, meeting no resistance until they came to an area with a small bridge in the center. As they moved closer to the bridge, Leliana spotted darkspawn ahead. She signaled for them to get back, but it seemed that living down here in the blackness had awarded the creatures heightened senses. They had been spotted.

The darkspawn attacked. Without waiting for the others, Oghren charged in, yelling out a war cry in dwarven. Slashing and smashing with his massive two-handed great axe, the berserker killed as many as he could. Aedan turned to Aleta who didn’t bother to hide the smug expression on her face and found himself seeing something familiar about it. Shrugging it off, he focused on the battle at hand.

Oghren never noticed Alistair and Aedan beside him, he just kept swinging the great axe with unrestrained zeal, dismembering and decapitating every darkspawn that he came into contact with. Out of the corner of his eye, Aedan also saw a blur of movement which could only have been Zevran, dashing from darkspawn to darkspawn. The mages were standing at the rear, casting spells, while trying to protect the melee fighters. 

Sten and Jovey stood close by the mages, killing anything that came close. Soon after, an ogre appeared. Alistair left the others to deal with the few remaining darkspawn. Without hesitation, he charged at the ogre, leaping into the air. The warden plunged his sword into its chest and slid down its torso. The serrated edge on Alistair’s sword ripped at the course flesh of the ogre’s abdomen. He soon lost his hold on the sword, falling to the ground. Alistair had to roll quickly out of the way as the ogre fell to the ground, dead. As he stood, the warden saw that his comrades had killed everything else.

They moved in further, only to be attacked by a new type of darkspawn. Duncan never mentioned this one, but Aedan had already thought of a name – shriek, which was appropriately named as they heard a high pitch wail just before it attacked. Even though the creature kept disappearing, then reappearing to attack, Aedan soon figured out a pattern to where it would reappear next. Killing it was the easy part, the further they moved, the more they were attacked. With a tactical response, Aedan and his entourage dispatched them easily.

Among the darkspawn, was a creature that Aedan assumed used to be an animal. It looked similar to the blight wolves in the Brecillian Forests. A bronto, Oghren had called it. It too had been infected by the taint. None of the creatures lasted long.

After a few more smaller groups of darkspawn tried and failed to kill them, the group were faced with a group of shrieks, and another Ogre. This one was slightly bigger than the rest, smarter with its tactics so Aedan thought it was a leader of sorts. Sten and Jovey once again protected the mages, killing the incoming shrieks, while Alistair, Tanner and Aedan attacked the leader ogre. With the three men attacking it at once, the ogre had trouble trying to fight back. It soon fell, as did the shrieks. 

After the battle, Oghren led them deeper into the dark, guided by the specks of light provided by their torches. When he stopped, the dwarf turned around and felt the side of the tunnel. After a few moments of feeling the bumps and grooves he seemed satisfied. “Ortan Thaig. Won’t be long now,” was all he said, before walking on ahead. They group followed him, but Aedan couldn’t help thinking that for someone who was completely drunk a few hours ago, he seemed to be pretty well aware of where he was going and what he was doing.

#### * * _Ortan Thaig_ * *

They made camp in a nearby alcove, after evicting the residential giant spiders. Once they’d had eight or so hours sleep, Aedan roused his companions. It didn’t take theme long to rise, they were eager to leave this place and he could hardly blame them. Oghren led them further along to a crossroads with a decrepit sign pointing to three different directions. “Can you make out out what it says, Oghren?” Alistair asked.

The red-head scratched his moustache thoughtfully. “Not easily, warden. I can’t read that line, but that, oh!”

“Yes?” Aedan prompted patiently.

“Ortan Thaig! The sign says it’s this way.” Aedan nodded in approval. Hopefully once they had made it to the thaig, things would start to fall into place. They travelled for a few hours more, steering clear of as many darkspawn and spiders as was possible, when Oghren came to a complete stop. “By the tits of my ancestors, Ortan Thaig! I never thought I’d see this place in the flesh!” He looked around and further down into the cavern he could see scattered light that illuminated ancient statues and derelict houses. “I can see Branka all over this place. She always took chips from the walls at regular intervals when she was in new tunnels. Check their composition. If she was still here though, she’d have sentries out by now,” Oghren said, turning to face the wardens.

Aedan and Alistair nodded. “Excellent, let’s keep going Oghren.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Oghren replied eagerly.

The group walked on a bit further, until they came across some dead darkspawn. Aedan stopped to examine the bodies, but he couldn’t find any visible cause of death. Alistair crouched down beside him. “What do you think happened to them? I mean, there’s no wounds and barely any blood.”

Aedan looked up from the bodies. “I have no idea. I did notice two large marks on this one,” he said, motioning to the genlock at his feet. “They look like puncture marks, but what I need to know is what made them.” Alistair nodded, and they moved into the tunnel on their right. It wasn’t long before they found more bodies, which appeared to have died in a similar way to the first group. Aedan took the torch from Oghren and entered a nearby cavern, where he found the source of the dead darkspawn.

“We’ve got company!” Alistair said, pointing to the centre of the cavern. Aedan looked to where he was pointing and saw a group of massive, grotesque spiders. He had no idea how to kill them, but the newest warden went in to attack none the less. Zevran and Tanner were already circling around the spiders, while Oghren, Alistair and Sten attacked from the front. 

Jovey had latched onto one of the spiders legs, but soon lost his grip. The spider turned his attention to the mabari, sinking it’s fangs into his front leg. He yelped and tried to limp away, but the spider was already moving for another attack. 

Aedan raced over to where Jovey was, lashing out with his sword. Slicing through one of the spider’s legs, Cousland stepped between it and Jovey. He cried out for Wynne, calling her over to help. The spider hissed at him, rearing up for another attack. Aedan stabbed at it angrily, piercing one of its eyes. It thrashed around, kicking with its five remaining legs. 

The warden looked around at Jovey, to see how Wynne was doing with the healing. He looked up at his master, but didn’t do anything else. Aedan scanned the battlefield and at the others, seeing that they had killed the others spiders. The spider at his feet had finally died too. Leaving his sword where it was, Aedan knelt down beside Jovey, patting him softly and whispering that he would be fine. The brave mabari watched his master with sad brown eyes, his breathing growing erratic.

Cousland turned to Wynne desperately. “Is he going to be alright?” She said nothing to the worried warrior, merely muttering something foreign but undoubtedly magical under her breath, her expression grim. Aleta joined Wynne and crouched down beside her. She too, closed her eyes and helped try and heal Jovey. 

As he frantically watched the two mages work, Aedan saw the mabari's breathing slowly return to normal. A few moments more and he slowly rose to his feet. Wynne opened her eyes and smiled. Aedan embraced her and even kissed her cheek, which had the older woman chuckling and returning the hug. Aedan moved to hug Aleta as well, but the raven haired woman stepped away, albeit with a shy smile. Refusing to take no for an answer, Jovey barked and wagged his tail happily and leapt at Aleta, licking her face in thanks. She laughed and patted him on the head. “Hamin mir falon.”

Aedan thanked Wynne and Aleta again, as he patted Jovey. He barked happily and bounced around his masters’ legs, showing that he was healed. He then walked over to where the spider that had bit him was and lifted his leg and urinated all over the spider’s corpse, clearly marking his territory. 

When the mabari was finished, Aedan led the party carefully further into the cavern, walking through another tunnel. At the other end was another large cavern, only this time there were living darkspawn here, and they were being attacked by the spiders. Aedan looked knowingly at Alistair, he must’ve been thinking something similar thoughts. “Stay low. We’ll wait here and see what happens. With any luck, they’ll wipe each other out,” Aedan whispered. The others nodded, watching the fight play out. When the skirmish finished, only the spiders were left. Without alerting the arachnids, the wardens’ party moved quickly through one of the tunnels before Aedan lost sight of them. They waited for a moment, to make sure it was clear, before moving on.

They didn’t get too much further when they were attacked yet again by more spiders. This time, Jovey and Aedan stayed close together. In this small tunnel, the beasts had no room to move, which gave them the advantage. The duo dealt with them swiftly, before journeying deeper through the tunnel. 

The path was a long winding one, and Aedan knew he’d never find his way back easily. It led them to another cavern, this time harboring spirits, but not like the ones in the Fade, they were like the ones encountered in the Brecillian Forest. Aedan tried stepping carefully into the cavern, but the spirits noticed immediately. Then he saw them. Golems. _Great, just what we need_. Aedan thought, drawing his sword. He knew right away that only the mages could fight the spirits, so he told the rest to focus on the golems. 

Sten was not pleased about leaving Aleta alone, especially after noting that these golems were pure stone and lyrium, but he complied with the order all the same. 

With the nine of them attacking the golems, the three mages had no trouble fighting the entities. The battle did not last long. Moving further into the cavern, they crossed a small bridge and on the other side, they were attacked by more spirits and golems. Without having to say a word, the group split into the same groups. When the fight was over, they continued to move, coming across yet another tunnel. As they neared it, Aedan saw more spiders. They looked as though they were waiting there for them, but as the wardens’ group neared, the arachnids turned and crawled into the tunnel, using their webs to raise themselves up into the rocky roof of the tunnel. The further in they walked, the more spiders could be seen, and they all raised themselves to the ceiling.

Exiting the tunnel, the group was herded into another cavern, this one slightly different to the others. There were spider webs everywhere, over every inch of wall, floor and ceiling. Then they were attacked by more spiders, only these ones looked as if they had been corrupted by something. Of course! The darkspawn blood! These must have been among the first to feast on them, Aedan realised. 

Just after they had killed the new threat, the party was ambushed by a genlock emissary. Aedan thought it strange that this lone darkspawn had survived, it had been so close to the spiders, but they hadn’t attacked it at all. While Aedan was pondering this notion, Alistair had killed the emisary. He looked up at his comrade and nodded.

They kept on, hoping this would soon be the end of their trek. So tired and weary of the twists and turns taken thus far, none saw it at first. Only Jovey sensed it. He stopped, sniffed the air a few times then started growling. Aedan looked around, wondering what he was growling at. Then Leliana must’ve spotted it. “Look! Over there!” she said, pointing towards a rocky column.

That was when Aedan finally saw what his instincts had failed to see - a huge spider leg, except it looked different somehow. They moved closer, cautiously. Everyone else started seeing it too. It wasn’t until they neared an area that had a circle carved into the floor, that the spider showed itself. It was bigger than the others, and from the way it looked, Aedan guessed that it was the alpha or matriarch. It was also corrupted, though much worse than the others seen so far.

It lunged furiously at the intruders, front legs in the air. Nothing could have prepared the warden for how disgusting the spider’s fangs looked, there was still skin and bone hanging from them, probably victims from Branka’s house or some hapless adventurer. 

The entire party dived blindly in an attempt to avoid the hairy tendon as it came crashing down. The Antivan and Qunari were the first to recover and as soon as they got back on their feet, both elf and kossith stabbed at it. The giant arachnid’s skin was thicker than any other spider encountered so far, and their blades just bounced off it. Even the mages’ spells weren’t affecting it. Then Aleta had an idea. “Underneath!” The wardens looked at her, confused, so she pointed. “Attack it from underneath, the flesh will be softer there.” 

Alistair looked at Aedan, then shrugged. The two waited for the spider to rear up again, then thrust their swords forward, this time wounding it. Their blades pierced flesh, causing the spider to hiss in pain, but instead of dying, it shot a web up to the ceiling and disappeared. It dropped down in a corner north of the group, bringing more spiders with it. 

Leliana and Tanner stealthed around the outside, slicing the smaller spiders as they went. Sten went in hard, swinging his great sword in precise movements. Any spider that got too close, was sliced in two thrown across the cavern. When the mages saw an opportunity, they sent spells flying into the large spider’s underside. Alistair and Aedan repeated their slashing, though timing when the giant spider would rear up was difficult. Jovey stayed close to Aleta and Wynne, while Morrigan veered off a little, needing space to cast her fireball spell.

Despite everything that had happened to his family, Duncan and the other wardens, Aedan couldn’t help but smile at Jovey. Even though he must have been terrified of being bitten again, he still attacked any spiders that came too close to his mages. Regardless as to how many times the warriors stabbed at it, and no matter how many of its minions they killed, the giant spider kept retreating, and each time it came back, it brought reinforcements.

As more of them attacked, Oghren let out an angry roar. He charged over to where the giant spider was hanging from the ceiling. As it dropped, the enraged dwarf brought his great axe up, then down, cleaving the spider in two. As the two pieces fell to the ground, some of the other spiders retreated. Those that stayed were soon killed. 

When the area was clear, Alistair noticed a large book sitting on a bench. As he attempted to read the first few pages, he crinkled his nose up. It was written in dwarven. He motioned for Oghren to try and the dwarf realised it was a journal. The others stood close, and as he read the text aloud. _“We found evidence today that the Anvil of the Void was not built in the Ortan Thaig. We will go south, to the Dead Trenches. The Anvil is somewhere beyond.”_

Alistair looked at the others, they were listening intently. Oghren’s eyes lit up hopefully and continued reading. _“My soldiers tell me I am mad, that the Dead Trenches are crawling with darkspawn that we will surely die before we find the Anvil. If we find it. I leave this here, in case they’re right. If I die in the Trenches, perhaps someone can walk past my corpse and retrieve the Anvil. For if it remains lost, so too, do we all.” The dwarf clutched the diary tighter, it would seem he had figured out who it belonged to. “If I have not returned, and Oghren yet lives, tell him… no. What I have to say should be for his ears alone. This is my farewell.”_

Aedan looked at Oghren quickly and saw a big smile on his face. “Branka was thinking about me! I knew she still cared. The old softy.” He let out a sigh. “Well, it looks like the Dead Trenches is our next stop then. They say the darkspawn nest there, whole herds of ‘em. But if that’s where Branka went, then that’s where I’m going.” 

Alistair groaned. “How did I know he was going to say that?” Oghren ignored him though, and set off further into the Deep Roads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aleta's phrase in Elvhen, _"Hamin mir falon,"_ is translated to, "Rest my friend."


	13. The Dead Trenches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't get any worse than a darkspawn filled underground does it? Wrong. This chapter contains smut, you were warned. All cannon belongs to Bioware. Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Twelve: The Dead Trenches

After the fight with the monstrous spider, Aedan figured that no other creatures would want to disturb them, so he told the others to set up camp in her lair. He reached into his satchel and pulled out some bread and cheeses that Harrowmont had given them, along with some other dwarven rations and passed them around as Alistair started up a fire.

It was a lot colder down here in the dark, and not at all safer than the surface the warden mused. He stretched his hands out towards the fire in an attempt to warm them when he felt Morrigan slide down next to him, leaning forward and flashing him a glimpse of her barley concealed cleavage. He felt himself stiff with arousal and fought the urge to kiss her, admiring her beauty by the small crackling of the fire’s light. She also stretched out her hands though not to warm them. Flashes of red embers sparked from her fingertips and the fire grew wider and warmer, enveloping the small encampment like a warm blanket. She turned to Aedan with a rare smile. “There, ‘tis much more effective now, yes?”

The warden smiled back and nodded. “Yes, thank you Morrigan.” As she turned to rise, he grabbed hold of her arm and gently tugged her back down to him. “Stay, keep warm with me.”

Her smile widened just a little as she allowed the warden to pull her in closer against his chest, not even objecting as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, merely sighed in contentment. Aedan smiled and cheered himself on on the inside. He glanced around the camp and over Morrigan’s head he saw Alistair make a horrified face at the two of them. Aedan grinned and rolled his eyes, suppressing laughter. 

He was not at all surprised to see Tanner and Leliana making out through the slight opening of her tent. The way those two had been acting these past five months on the road, something like this was bound to happen. He just hoped that they’d be able to function properly after their inevitable tumble. Wynne and Aleta were comparing herbs and other various fungi they’d found on their travels while Sten and Jovey sat on the opposite side of the fire, content to be still. Zevran and Oghren were sharing a pint from the stout dwarf’s canteen, though what it might have been made from Aedan did not want to know.

Inside the tent Leliana and Tanner had stripped down to the bare minimum, rolling around on the furs and blankets in a mess of limbs and urgent kisses. The practiced rogue had the lithe bard pinned beneath him, grinding his hard on against her entrance, making her purr. He slid down her face, kissing her temple, cheek, earlobe and throat, pausing to gently bite her, ignoring her incredulous yet aroused gasp, down to her breasts where he peeled off the breast band and freed her creamy, pert breasts. Kneading one, he swirled around the other with his tough, teasing the nipple to hardening pebbles. He smiled against her skin when she sighed his name and ran her fingers through her hair. Deciding not to linger, Tanner continued his journey south, peppering kisses along her chest, abdomen and with a single finger, slid over her warm slit to rest his strong hands on either thigh.

Leliana looked down at him through hooded lids, flushed and utterly aroused. _Good, that makes two of us, lass_ , he thought with a sly grin. He spread her legs apart and said with a chuckle, “Now here's something you don't see everyday. A Chantry sister laying out the red carpet for a not-so-humble rogue.” He ran his warm hands up and down her inner thighs, watching as she shuddered with pleasure. “I think it's time I paid my respects to the Maker.”

Leliana laughed out loud as the rugged rogue quirked a mock-serious brow. The laugh quickly turned into sharp gasps when his lips followed his hands, his stubble tickling the sensitive flesh.

Tanner gripped her thighs and squeezed gently and continued making his way further up her leg until he reached the cotton panties she wore. Frilly, delicate things made of lace. Definitely Orlesian. He could see a dark patch beginning to gather through the bottom of the panties and he groaned at the tightening of his cock.

Leliana moaned when she felt his breath fan her smouldering entrance and cried out when she felt him drag the garments down her thighs and throw them away, forgotten as his calloused index finger slipped inside her, just a little, and trace lazy circles around her hood. “The Maker is pleased, I assure you, with your de.. devooootion. _Ooohh_ … yes!”

“He is, is he? Isn't that a lovely thought? Not as lovely as your gorgeous flower here, however.” He rubbed her clit with his knuckle and chuckled as she keened. “Let me water it, see if I can't help her to grow, eh?” Tanner grinned devilishly and ran his tongue against her folds, then upward to her nub, lapping gently as she writhed and grinded against him, demanding more pressure. He only chuckled again and kept the slow, torturous pace.

“For the love of the Maker, Tanner, I need more! Go faster, _please!_ ” Leliana cried out, reaching down to do it herself when he shook his head. He pinned her wrist against the bedroll and inserted another finger into her trembling quim.

He grinned as he watched her eyes roll in the back of her head and moan his name. This earned her a faster pace and he watched the rise and fall of her creamy, pert breasts as she panted and mewled like a mabari in heat. “That's my girl, come for me lass.” He began thrusting his fingers faster, applying more pressure at her clit and before long she came apart, spasaming against him, her other hand grabbing a fistful of his charcoal ponytail and cried his name out in the firelight. 

Tanner slowed the pace again as she rode out her orgasm, trying to ignore the painful twitch in his breeches. Her cheeks were flushed crimson and he thought she never looked more beautiful. “You look like you enjoyed that, lass.”

Leliana hitched her left leg up and rolled onto her hip, her tits falling to the side. She cupped her left breast and began to rub and pinch the rosy nipple. “You have no idea, but trust me when I say, you will.”

Just watching her play with herself turned him on so bad. He quickly removed the confinement of his leather breeches and his cock stood proud and stiff against his rock hard abdominal muscles. He felt it jolt when she stared at its girth with wide eyes and bit her bottom lip. She was impressed and he was pleased. He gripped his stone member and pumped it a couple of times to relieve a bit of the pressure, before reaching out for her other breast. Leliana arched her back, allowing him easier access and began tweaking her other nipple. A soft sigh and throaty moan escaped her as sinful wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.

Tanner gently rolled her onto her stomach and positioned himself between her arse cheeks, sliding his erection between them, grunting explicitly. She propped herself on all fours and pushed back. “ _Yesss..._ ” she hissed, throwing her head back in abandon.

Tanner groaned as he felt precum gather at his tip and slipped two digits inside her dripping folds. She was wetter than Wintersend and he was so fucking horny, all he wanted to do was rut her like a beast, fill her up with his cum and have her begging for more. _Slow down mate_ , he silently urged himself. _She wants it, Maker does she want it!_ The rogue slid his cock downwards and rubbed his glistening tip up and down against her saturated folds, smearing her peach flesh with his juices. His ball tightened as he imagined how warm and inviting she'd be, how creamy and ready. He didn't have to imagine for long.

“If you do not fuck me now, Tanner, I'm going to mount you myself. _Ugnhh!_ Yes, _Maker_ , yes!” she cried.

Without needing to be told twice, the adept rogue gripped his thick shaft and thrust rough and deeply into her. He groaned and waited for several seconds, simply enjoying the feel of her warm, tight pussy. She clamped down hard and it was ecstasy. Leliana pushed back, greedily taking him deep, pulling him out of his fantasy.

With delicious intent, Tanner pulled back and slammed into her, generating a quick, demanding pace. She cried out as he rammed her a second, third and fourth time, clenching the bedroll sheets as she felt his balls slap relentlessly against her opening. She was delirious with heady desire and need, screaming for him to go harder, go faster. Leliana gripped her tit and squeezed, screaming his name until she was hoarse. If there was any doubt the party didn't know what they were doing, there was none now, and neither rogues could have given a damn.

" _Nnnghh!_ " Tanner could feel his orgasm building, his cock throbbed inside her and just as he felt himself spurt he slapped her arse and slammed into her one last time, hot jets of his seed coating her insides.

They cried out in unison and Leliana rested her head against his shoulder, sweat pouring over her brow and breast. “That was fantastic, you were _magnificent._ ”

Tanner smiled smiled and gently pulled out, his cock still twitching and a drizzle of cum spilled onto her calf. He kissed her shoulder, then nipped it gently. “ _You_ were magnificent. I'm just the lucky bastard that got to worship you for the evening.” 

Leliana turned around to face him, her sky-blue stare soft and thoroughly satisfied. “You give yourself far too little credit, but thank you for the compliment,” she gave him a long kiss, soft and sensual before dragging him on the pelts and blankets with her.

Those left by the fire talked for a bit longer, trying to ignore the moans and pants coming from Leliana’s tent, before deciding to call it a night, except Sten, who was on first watch. Maybe it was his imagination, but Aedan thought he saw the Qunari clench his jaw a little too tightly as Leliana screamed out one last time before the camp went quiet until morning.

When the party got themselves organized, Oghren had a big smirk on his face as he nudged Tanner in the ribs. “Greased up the ol’ bronto there, eh?” When Tanner only winked at the dwarf, Oghren laughed heartily and slapped the rogue on the back. “Lucky bastard! She’s a looker, for a human.” Leliana only chuckled and gathered her bow and arrows before whispering something delicious in Tanner’s ear. The rogue grinned and slapped her backside before picking up his crossbow and slinging it casually over his shoulder.

Aedan led the group out of the spiders lair and past some more carved statues. Once they exited the tunnel, the warden saw a cliff not too far from where they entered. As he approached the precipice, he could hear noise coming from below. Aedan realised it wasn’t a cliff, but a deep ravine, and as he crept forward and peered over the chasm and down in the depths he could see thousands of darkspawn, each wearing crude armor and carrying sharp weapons. They were marching for war.

Aedan could not hold the fear back, there were so many of those ghastly creatures and if they reached the surface... Before his mind could be lost to despair his ears were pierced but a deafening roar. Something large and terrifying flew past them. Aedan was thrown on his face by the sheer force of it, his comrades hurled against the cavern wall. When he lifted his head, his heart beat double time. The Archdemon.

It flew up near the ceiling, before landing on the other side of the ravine and Aedan got a good look at it. He swallowed a horrible lump in his throat to see this beast was bigger than any temple or Chantry he'd ever seen. It's tattered wings were matted and folded in while it was not airborne, but the warden could imagine they'd be even more massive. It didn’t appear to have noticed them, at least for the moment. The dreaded beast sat on the wall, roaring down at the horde below, purple flames coming from its nose and snout. Both Aedan and Alistair clutched their heads and writhed in agony, in some sort of invisible pain. When they felt they couldn’t bear it any longer, the Archdemon flew away and the feeling was gone. Both wardens looked at each other in relief, then turned to the party.

“Are you alright, Aedan, Alistair?” Wynne asked, checking them over for some sign of injury.

“I... I think so,” Aedan replied slowly, nodding his head. 

He glanced quickly at Morrigan who looked slightly worried. She put a hand on his forearm. “You are unharmed?” Aedan nodded. The witch sighed quietly in relief. “Good, you are of no use to us dead.” That would’ve been an insult if he hadn’t seen her weak smile before she covered it up with an impassive expression.

“I’m alright too,” Alistair said sarcastically. “In case you were wondering.”

“We only need one warden to end the Blight, Alistair. Do not flatter yourself,” was her dry reply. The blonde warden just stared at her in disbelief, then back at Aedan before shrugging. That was a lot tamer than what he was expecting.

“Morrigan...” Aedan warned. The raven haired witch said nothing further.

Soon they saw more dwarves, these guys were dressed in black armor. Aedan guessed that they were from the Legion of the Dead. He had heard of them from his war tutor, but never seen them in action. He had a feeling they were about to find out just how good they were. 

Darkspawn were headed their way. As the first wave approached, Aedan’s party stood with the Legionnaires. When the darkspawn attacked, the Legionnaires were the first to fight, the party quickly followed. They don’t seem to hold anything back. It’d be great to have them in the fight with the Archdemon, Aedan thought as he gutted the nearest genlock. Alistair and the others were following his lead. Jovey was right beside his master, he seemed thrilled to fight something he could kill this time. Even while he was trying to fight, his stumpy tail was wagging so hard that his whole backside moved.

The warden didn’t know if darkspawn felt fear, but it looked like some of them were trying to avoid Jovey. Those that tried were cut down by Legionnaires, or by the party. Jovey even went and attacked those that avoided him. The fight was soon over, with the Legion of the Dead having killed most of the darkspawn. One of them walked over to Aedan. He strutted over with purpose and this led Aedan to assume he was the leader. “Atrast vala, Grey Warden. I’ve never seen one of your kind in the Deep Roads,” he said, removing his helmet.

“Wait, how did you know that I’m a warden?” Aedan asked.

“I recognize a fighter of darkspawn. It marks you. It’s why we in the Legion of the Dead abandon our lives, so we can face them without fear. It’s a sacrifice I understand you Grey Wardens are familiar with. What do you want here, warden?” he asked.

‘We’re here on a quest for Lord Harrowmont, to find the Paragon Branka,” Cousland replied.

The dwarf grunted. “Then you’re working for a fool. We follow the throne, which is empty. Below that is politics, beneath the Legion’s notice. That’s the benefit of our oath. Does he need some weight so he can swing the vote in the Assembly?” Looking from Aedan to Alistair, he surmised as much. “Well, wardens, you’ve got your work cut out for you. Paragon Branka is dead, everyone with sense knows that. Past our line, the darkspawn kill everything.”

Alistair looked at him, cocking an eyebrow. “So why not push the line? Take the fight to them!”

The dwarf sighed. “I’d gladly lead an assault through the Dead Trenches, but without an arse on the throne, we have no orders. You want to go digging blind, you go right ahead.”

“We best be on our way then.” Alistair mumbled, realizing they would get no further assistance here.

“Good luck, Grey Warden.” The Legionnaire nodded and moved, allowing them to pass. 

Aedan turned and crossed the bridge, where they were attacked by more darkspawn. After dealing with them swiftly, he led them into another tunnel. Exiting, they were in another cavern, although this one was much different from the others. It wasn’t just rock and dirt, there was magnificent stone pillars and cracked mosaic tiles on the floor. The dwarves must have spent ages doing all this work, literally. However there were darkspawn here too, and as soon as he noticed them, they noticed him too. As they charged, Aedan saw another of those brontos with them. After killing them, the group came across two doors. The wardens could hear darkspawn behind them. “My Warden sense is tingling,” Alistair joked, and Aedan grinned as he looked at both doors, not knowing which one to open. He shrugged and kicked open the door on his right.

Darkspawn were everywhere. “Ah, _shit!_ ” He swore as he drew his sword. Straight away, Alistair was standing beside his comrade, his own sword at the ready. Sten was the first to attack, cleaving his way through the first wave of creatures. Tanner and Leliana were using their bows and crossbow, seeming to be having a competition on the side, upping the ante as each one felled a darkspawn. Whatever, Aedan thought with a chuckle, as long as they’re focused. Zevran diced up the leftovers with glee. 

The mages did their thing - frying, electrocuting, freezing, ploughing and exploding - while Jovey ran up and attacked with Sten. Alistair and Aedan killed anything that got by the Qunari and the mabari. As they travelled through the halls of this place, they were relentlessly attacked. After fighting their way through the halls, they entered a large open area.

Aedan immediately held a hand over his nose. The stench of bodily waste and death was everywhere, and if the bleeding entrails and guttered bodies displayed on what remained of the walls and floors were anything to go by, then they had reached the bowels of the Dead Trenches.

Trying to navigate his way around and through the new section was off-putting and difficult, but the warden did notice a seperate area off to the side, filled with more darkspawn of course. As they moved to attack, Alistair noticed that one of the hurlocks was bigger than the rest. This one carried a two handed hammer, and wore different armor to the rest. As he moved to attack it, Alistair realised that this area was a forge of some kind. So that means that this thing must be a forge master. Balls. 

The forge master swung its hammer, just missing the wardens’ head as he ducked. Alistair slashed out with his sword, slicing through the forge masters’ leg bracer, but was unable to wound it. Then he saw the hammer swing again, this time he was too slow. The blunted weapon caught Alistair’s shield knocking him to the ground. Aedan watched on, frozen for an awful moment, before turning about at break neck speed to defend his friend, only to catch the forge master’s hammer to the side.

Aedan cried out in agony and fell to the floor, where he stayed. Alistair could feel the rage building inside, as he looked at Cousland’s still body. The warden crawled to his feet and gathered his remaining energy to charge the darkspawn, swinging wildly. The forge master was caught off guard by such random tactics. As it reeled backwards, Alistair’s sword slashed, opened up its arm and caused it to drop the hammer. He continued to attack, slashing it open more and more, black blood spraying in all directions. 

After a few more seconds, the forge master fell to its knees. It looked up at Alistair and growled as he brought his sword down and across, severing its head. The warden turned and killed the few immediate darkspawn around him, clearing the way for Wynne and Aleta. As they neared Aedan’s body, he heard them gasp. 

They knelt beside him, working to heal his wounds. The rest of the party gathered around and waited. After what seemed like forever, Aedan opened his eyes and slowly sat up. He looked around at all of them, then up at Alistair. “That was too damn close.” He extended his hand, clasping Aedan’s forearm and helping him to his feet. 

Worry and respect flared in Alistair's eyes and he nodded. “Yes, it was. That was one tough bastard.”

Aedan moved on but Alistair turned to Wynne and Aleta, thanking them again, they really were an awesome healing force. He looked at Aleta for a few seconds longer than was considered necessary, before Sten moved just a little bit closer to her. _There’s definitely something going on there, whether they know it themselves or not_ , Aedan thought, watching his hopeless friend but trying real hard to suppress a grin. Someone had to tell the poor sod at some point and he guessed it was going to have to be him. Why did he always get the shitty jobs?

They moved to the other side of the great hall and soon after, they started across a bridge. Then the shrieks came, attacking from all sides, but the party was prepared and soon they were all dead. Once over the bridge, they entered another hall, where they found another large room. Aedan expected to find more darkspawn, but instead found undead. Or, undead found them. Alistair ordered the party to spread out, pushing forward in a line to take down the walking corpses. After the undead were laid back to rest, Alistair spied another door. As soon as they entered, they heard a voice, resigned and haunting. “ _First day, they come and catch everyone._ ”

Aedan stopped and looked around, seeing nothing. Alistair and the others had heard it too. Slowly moving forward, they entered another tunnel that had been dug through the rock. Again, he heard the voice. “ _Second day, they beat us and eat some for meat._ ”

“ _Third day, they gnawed on the men again._ ”

“ _Fourth day, we wait and fear our fate._ ”

“ _Fifth day, and it’s another girl’s turn._ ”

 _Another girl’s turn? What could that mean? The darkspawn were taking only the women? I’ve never heard of them doing that, usually they kill everything_. Aedan kept walking, his skin crawling with dread. What the name of the Maker was this eerie chant? Darkspawn did not take prisoners...

“ _The sixth day, her screams we hear in our dreams._ ”

“ _The seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew._ ” Alistair groaned when he heard that. Aedan turned to see is face turn a bit paler.

“ _Eighth day, we hated as she is violated._ ” This time Aedan shuddered. The implications were too gruesome to consider. They pressed forward.

“ _Ninth day, she grins as she devours her kin._ ” 

Aleta gasped when she heard that. “She ate her own people?” she whispered, swallowing hard. Not knowing what to say to that, both wardens tried their best to give her their most reassuring looks.

“ _Now she does feast, as she becomes the beast,_ ” the eerie voice muttered, as the repulsed group neared the door at the end of the tunnel. Alistair opened the door, and was horrified by what he saw.

There were sacks on the walls and floor, they looked as if they were made of flesh and spilling out of them was bloodied body parts, faeces and vomit. There was an alter in the middle of the room that held a large sarcophagus and inside that was a body of a female dwarf with her abdomen ripped open.

They all jumped when they heard the same eerie voice, though this time it sounded much closer. Aedan turned and saw her. A female dwarf with matted hair that had chunks of blood caked in it was standing by a door, scratching obsessively at a cluster of infected scabs on her arm. Aedan realized she was repeating what they had heard in the tunnels. As they walked closer to her, the dwarf stood up and turned around. Her face was pale, but she had dark circles under her eyes, and blood on her hands, under her nails and clothes.

“What is this? A human? Bland and unlikely. Feeding time brings only kin and clan. I am cruel to myself. You are a dream of stranger’s faces and open doors,” she muttered cryptically.

Aedan wasn’t sure he wanted to know any more but he couldn’t help feeling pity for this woman. “I assure you, I am no dream. Maybe I can help you.”

Her eyes were glazed over. “No. No you can’t. There’s nothing left. There’s body and there’s hope, and both are turning…” She trailed off. Then she continued. “They come. They… they vomit, they violate and they chant. They scream, oh, how they scream. And then the change comes. All I could do was wish Laryn went first. I wished it upon her, so I would be spared. But I had to watch. I had to see the change. How do you _endure_ that? How did _Branka_ endure that?” she whispered. 

Oghren stepped forward. “Branka! Where is she?”

Without looking up, the dwarf replied, “D-do not speak of Branka, of what she did! Ancestor’s preserve us, forgive me. I was her captain and I did not stop her. Her lover, and I could not turn her. Forgive her… but no, she cannot be forgiven. Not for what she has done. For what she has become.”

Oghren was getting impatient. “What did she do, Hespith! What did Branka do?”

The tormented woman attempted to cover her ears with her hands. “I will not speak of her! Of what she did, of what we have become! I will not turn! I will not become what I have seen! Not Laryn! Not Branka!” Then she turned and ran. Aedan tried to grab hold of her, to get her to explain what she meant but she was too small and quick and lost sight of her. Deciding to continue on the group came to a large open cavern and they heard her voice again. “She became obsessed. That is the word, but it is not strong enough. Blessed Stone, there is nothing left in her but the Anvil.”

In the distance, Alistair spotted an ogre and he groaned quietly. Aedan looked around and saw it too, and that it didn’t seem to have noticed them yet. Then another came out of a door beside the first. This one saw them though, and roared. Oghren and Sten didn’t wait for the ogres to attack, they charged in first, stabbing at the ogres’ legs. Jovey stayed with Aleta, Wynne and Morrigan, Leliana and Tanner stuck to their archery again, with Zevran providing support, Alistair and Aedan went to assist Oghren and Sten. As soon they were dead, the wardens heard Hespith’s voice again. “ _We tried to escape, but they found us. They took us all, turned us._ ”

Alistair led them to the door where the second ogre had come from. Zevran whistled, impressed. “How long do you think it’s been since anyone walked these halls?” After looking around the hall, Zevran whistled again, this time to get the wardens’ attention. He motioned Aedan over to where he was standing, and as he got closer, the warden realised he was standing next to an altar. On it sat a key and a helmet. The helmet looked identical to the ones the Legionnaires had been wearing. The noble thought about taking the helmet, but decided to leave it there as a sign of respect. As they left the hall, Hespith spoke again. “ _The men, they kill… they’re merciful. But the women, they want. They want to touch, to mould, to change until you are filled with them…_ ” Alistair shuddered at the thought.

Walking back to the area where the slain ogres lay, Aedan remembered seeing a large door. It was locked, then he remembered the key. Shortly after entering, he heard her again. “ _They took Laryn. They made her eat the others, our friends. She tore off her husband’s face and drank his blood._ ”

“Drank his blood? By the Maker, what is going on here?” Leliana said, fear and disgust in her voice. 

The group exchanged horrified expressions, and even Sten’s normally impassive mask faltered a little and he muttered, “Madness...”

“ _And while she ate, she grew. She swelled and turned grey and she smelled like them. They remade her in their image. Then she made more of them._ ” Hespith’s voice could be heard all around them. “ _Broodmother..._ ”

Not liking how that last part sounded, Aedan gripped his sword hilt tighter and clutched his shield close. There was something horrific happening just ahead, he could feel it. Walking through the tunnel, they entered a large cavern. There was flesh and blood all over the floor and it was there they saw it. The Broodmother. 

Bile rose in the wardens’ throat, this thing was hideous, Leliana and Aleta actually gagged before vomiting. The giant creature that once was a dwarf had mutated into a gigantic, repulsive pink blob with tentacles sprouting from the creature’s sides. It was regurgitating pus and acid and stroking its bare breasts, of which there were ten, in perverse circles. 

The entire group backed up quickly at the sight of the thing, which unfortunately attracted the creature’s attention. It let out a scream when it saw them, spraying spit and Maker knew what else all over the floor. Alistair looked at Aedan as he drew his sword, knowing instantly that this festering monster needed to put out of its misery. Zevran had already taken off, moving fast, trying to slash at the Broodmother’s stomach. She shrieked and tried swinging one of her tentacles at him. He saw this coming and dashed back, looking for an opening to exploit. She wailed and lashed out again, but missed as the nimble elf dodged and weaved out of harms way. Resigning to the fact that he wouldn’t be getting anywhere near any main arteries any time soon, he retreated.

Leliana was already firing arrows with incredible speed and accuracy, though there were too many tentacles blocking any arrow from doing any real damage. The red-head grunted in frustration and tried her best to clear a path for Sten and Oghren as they tried to charge at her, only to be blocked by tentacles that shot up through the floor. They both used their weapons to cut through the tentacles, but for each one they severed, another rose up in its place. 

Then the darkspawn came. Tanner only realised they were there when he heard Leliana cry out in pain. He turned to see a hurlock hit her with its hammer, knocking her to the ground. Tanner roared and reloaded his crossbow and fired, impaling the hurlock with a viscous _thwak_. The bolt flung the darkspawn back and collided with the genlock behind it. Tanner then rushed to Leliana’s side, cradling her in his arms. He checked her body for fatal wounds. She wasn’t dead, he could see she was still breathing, but the hurlock had recovered and was moving in for the kill, ignoring the bolt wedged firmly in its shoulder.

Hanging onto Leliana in one hand, the other reached for a dagger at his belt and within moments let it fly. The dagger cut deep into the hurlock’s chest and it stopped for a few seconds, grunting as the blood seeped through its armor but pushed on. Another three daggers flew from Tanner’s hand and impaled the hurlock’s neck, windpipe and gut but the disgusting creature just kept coming. Tanner cursed, he was out of daggers and didn’t have time to reload his crossbow in time. He shielded Leliana’s body with his own as the hurlock raised its hammer high, and waited for the deathblow to come, but Jovey was right there, leaping onto the hurlock’s back. 

Biting and slashing with his claws, the mabari quickly drove the creature to the ground. It shrieked and roared trying desperately to get Jovey off its back, but failed, its wounds finally overcoming it and soon the hurlock bled out, and lay still. Jovey immediately jumped off the corpse and went to Leliana and Tanner, trying to help Tanner get her on her feet. She coughed, and smiled up at the rogue and Jovey. “Th..thank you,” she croaked.

Tanner petted Jovey’s head momentarily and caressed her face gently, handing her her bow. “Can you still fight?”

“Or die trying,” she nodded, taking aim.

Aleta and Wynne were holding off the incoming darkspawn that were attempting a sneak attack, but the revolting creatures were everywhere, not to mention the tentacles. Aedan moved to try and clear the path, but the tentacles blocked his way. He turned just in time to see Zevran leap at the Broodmother, finally able to take his chance, and sank both daggers into her chest. With a roar of pain, she swung a massive, disgusting arm at him, knocking the assassin clear of her. As he hit the wall, a tentacle flew up from the ground and landed on top of him. Then a fireball came out of nowhere, burning the tentacle to ash. Morrigan stood at the back of the cave with a mess of darkspawn dead at her feet. She called out a warning to Aedan, indicting to something behind him.

The warden turned to see a tentacle rise from the ground. He stepped back, bringing his sword across, slicing through it. As the two pieces fell to the ground, the Broodmother let out another cry of pain. Oghren and Sten used the distraction to get close to her and stab her. The berserker was successful, Sten was not so lucky. A tentacle had risen up behind him and wrapped itself around his waist, throwing him against the ground, again and again. Aleta saw this and swore vehemently. She tried to get to him, but again the darkspawn and tentacles prevented most attempts. She kept trying to get past them, then it looked as though she gave up. Aedan tried to cut his way through, and turned to see Alistair had moved up to assist Oghren. But the darkspawn cornered him and Aedan was forced to stop and fight them off.

Then Aedan felt the ground underneath him shake. Oh shit, another earthquake! As he went to kill the hurlock in front of him, the ground opened up under it, swallowing the darkspawn and the one beside it. Then holes appeared everywhere swallowing darkspawn left and right. At first he thought it had to be the Broodmother, but it didn’t make sense that only the darkspawn were falling. It wasn’t until he turned around that he saw who had done it. Aleta was standing there, looking around with rage all over her face. Once the spell wore off, the mage ran to where Sten lay. With the darkspawn out of the way, Wynne had made it over to Zevran. Aedan was now able to join Alistair and Oghren in attacking the Broodmother unhindered.

Oghren had slashed through three of her tentacles by the time Aedan had got to them. Alistair stabbed her in the stomach. She continued to cry out in pain, struggling to be free of her attackers, but the more she struggled, the quicker they were able to attack her. With each wound inflicted, the Broodmother became weaker and weaker. She tried one last attempt to shake them, but as she swung her tentacle at Alistair, he leaped clear. Then he was on his feet again and running up the tentacle. He ran all the way up to her head, where he slashed and stabbed at her head and neck. As she died in agony, the Broodmother let out a final choking breath, black blood, like tar, pouring from the wounds all over her. Aedan said a prayer for the dwarf that once was. This had to be a blessing for the tortured woman.

Then Hespith appeared behind her. “That’s where they come from. That’s why they hate us… that’s why they need us. That’s why they take us, why they feed us. But the true abomination, is not that it occurred, but that it was _allowed_. Branka, my love. The Stone has punished me, dream friend. I am dying of something worse than death. Betrayal.” Then she was gone. 

Aedan helped the others over to a safe nook, as far away from the Broodmother's corpse as possible and readied his injury kits. “That was the most disgusting fight to date. I hope to the Maker that there aren’t too many more of those things ahead.”

“I hear that,” Alistair agreed, stripping down to his undergarments, eager to be rid of the Broodmother’s spume and bile. “We might as well rest here, I don’t think we’ll be attacked any time soon.” He added, scrubbing down his shield and blade.

“Agreed,” Aedan nodded and proceeded to strip down too. “But only a brief rest. We must keep pushing forward.” He looked around and saw a smaller tunnel ahead, assuming that it was likely going to lead them to Branka, and this Anvil of the Void. He was not eager.


	14. Of Anvils and Paragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wardens have finally reached the bowels of the Dead Trenches and ready to see what awaits them in the deep dark. All cannon belongs to Bioware. Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Thirteen: Of Anvils and Paragons

A few hours of resting and the party was moving forward once more. They would have gone earlier, only Wynne was worried Leliana might not have recovered well enough from her concussion. The bard insisted that she was fine and ignored the matron’s heavy frown, though that didn’t stop Wynne from watching her like a mother hen the rest of the trip.

Oghren took lead from here, and followed the narrow tunnel out of the Broodmother’s lair and into a damp cavern. There was no discernible dwarven architecture here, just a lot of rubble and skeletons as well as the odd darkspawn corpse. The party covered much ground without any trouble until they’d entered a larger cavern. As Morrigan, who brought up the rear of the party, crossed over the opening of this new section, a wall of rubble came down behind her, blocking the tunnel they’d just come through. Booby-trapped. Aedan and Alistair whirled around to make sure everyone was alright, but before either could comment, they heard a voice off in the distance. “Let me be blunt with you. After all this time, my patience for social grace is fairly limited. That doesn’t bother you, I hope?” 

Everyone looked around, trying to find the source of the voice, everyone except Oghren, who was smiling. “Well, shave my back and call me an elf! Branka, is that you? By the Stone, I barely recognised you!”

A small woman clad from head to toe in silver mail stepped out of the shadows above them. This had to be the great Paragon, Branka. She stared down at them, unimpressed. A sneer curled her lip as she said coldly, “Oghren. It figures that you would find your way here eventually. Hopefully, you can find your way back more easily.”

The red-head immediately stopped smiling. Clearly he had expected a somewhat different greeting. Next she turned to Aedan and Alistair. “And how should I address you? Hired swords for the latest lordling come to looking for me? Or just the only one who didn’t mind Oghren’s ale breath?”

“Be respectful woman! You’re talking to Grey Wardens!” Oghren growled.

Branka folded her arms and rolled her eyes and replied arrogantly, “Ah, so _important_ errand boys, then. I suppose something serious has happened. Is Endrin dead? That seems most likely, he was on the old and wheezy side.”

Aedan stared her down, irritated. “Yes, Endrin is dead. And the Assembly is in shambles.” He did not like this woman.

Branka said nothing for a short time, only shifted her weight on her other foot, then said slowly, “Then what is your involvement in this? Why would a surfacer be interested in dwarven politics?”

Before he could reply, she continued. “You must have a patron. A highly placed patron. And they want something in particular. Now, what might that be? I don’t care if the Assembly puts a dwarven monkey on the throne.”

“Now that would be an interesting sight in Orzammar's court!” Alistair mumbled under his breath.

Branka eye balled him then continued on as if he hadn’t spoken. “Because our protector, our great invention, the thing that once made our armies the envy of this world, is lost to the very darkspawn it should be fighting.” Her eyes grew wide with fervor, she was clearly obsessed, just like Hespith said. “The Anvil of the Void! The means by which the ancients forged their army of golems and held off the first Archdemon ever to rise. It’s here, so close I can taste it.”

“And yet, I get the feeling you need something from us,” Aedan surmised, trying to stay calm.

The dwarf nodded eagerly. “The Anvil lies on the other side of a gauntlet of traps designed by Caradin himself. My people and I have given body and soul to unlocking its secrets.” Aedan shuddered, thinking of all those poor dwarves that suffered, this woman didn’t seem to give two shits about them. “This is what’s important. This has lasting meaning. If I succeed, the dwarven people benefit. Kings, politics… all that is transitory. I’ve given up everything, and I would sacrifice anything to get the Anvil of the Void.”

Alistair shook his head, and gave voice to Aedan’s thoughts. “This is ridiculous. You are obviously obsessed with this Anvil, and likely why this Caradin person sealed it away!”

Branka stared at him as though he’d said something offensive. “I will not give up. His legacy lies just inside, the sum of all his knowledge, and I will have it. There’s only one way out, wardens. Forward. Through Caradin’s maze, and out to where the Anvil waits."

Oghren stared at her for a few seconds, stunned. “What has this place done to you?! I remember marrying a girl you could talk to for a minute and see her brilliance.”

Branka just stared back at him with cold, pitiless eyes. “I _am_ your Paragon.” Then she turned and disappeared back into the shadows.

Both wardens looked at Oghren, not really sure what to say but feeling intense sympathy for him. The man had crossed an ocean of darkspawn and fought monstrous adversaries to find her and she just dismissed him like he was nothing. He was just staring after her, trying to absorb what had just happened, then he turned and walked through the tunnel Branka was talking about, the one that would lead them to Caradin’s traps, his fists clenching his great axe so tight his knuckles turned white. 

Soon they stumbled across two dwarven bodies and then they heard Branka say, “I needed people to test Caradin’s traps. There is no way to break through except trial and error. I sent them in. They were all mine, pledged to be my house, and they didn’t want to help me. They tried to leave me, even my Hespith. But even she couldn’t understand that when you reach for greatness, there are sacrifices. As many sacrifices as needed.”

Just as she drifted off from her monologue, darkspawn came out from everywhere. When the last of them fell, Oghren turned around to speak to Branka, but she was gone. He looked around for a few moments, trying to see where she’d gone, without any luck. The dwarf gave up and turned around, making his way to the tunnel at the other end of the cavern. They had to fight their way through this tunnel, the darkspawn just kept coming. Oghren kept seeing the bodies of Branka’s dwarves as they fought and Aedan wondered how many of them did he know? A few? A lot? All? This had to be devastating for him. 

After decimating the darkspawn, Oghren led them into the next area which was full of golems. Some of them came to life and attacked. Even though the fight was long and hard, the group was victorious in the end. Zevran noticed some type of gas in the room that they came from and suggested avoiding the room all together, but after scouting the area the elf realised that room was the only way through. Zevran made a dash to jimmy the traps and after a few minutes the locks gave way and the valves were shut off. Wynne did what she could to stabilise his breathing and they continued on through the door on the opposite end of the room.

The next room contained golems. “Well, at least there’s no gas this time, yes?” Zevran mused. Another battle, another victory. After leaving the room and walking through a short tunnel, they entered a room with what looked like a large statue in the middle with carved anvils at each end. Except this was no ordinary statue. It was a stone structure that looked like some sort of tribal depiction that reached the ceiling. That was not what made it look so special. No, it was the pure lyrium that was coating the statue that had them all nervous. Aedan moved closer to study it, but when he reached out to touch it, the faces on it moved! The warden drew his sword, ready for anything. 

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then the eyes lit up, but again nothing happened for a moment. Then the room rumbled and hummed and from the stone it somehow summoned spirits! Knowing that they couldn’t kill the spirits, Aedan ordered the melee fighters to rally around the mages, forming a defensive circle. When they had defeated some of the spirits, more just kept coming. How were they going to get through this trial if that thing was capable of raining down endless spirits at them? Then Wynne had an idea. “The anvils! When we defeat this wave, hit the anvils!” 

Alistair looked at them, confused. Then he realised what they meant. As the wave was defeated, the anvils glowed. He ran up to the one nearest to them and slammed his sword down on it. A bolt of energy shot out from the anvil and hit the statue face in front of it. The eyes stopped glowing, instead what looked like blood started dripping from the eyes. That face didn’t summon any more spirits, so each time a wave was defeated, one of the warriors hit one of the anvils. When last of the anvils had been struck, all four faces shattered, revealing a switch. When Alistair pressed it, he heard a loud click from behind, and he turned to see a large door. Realising this was probably the way forward he allowed Oghren to lead them in, not before thinking to himself that this Caradin was one paranoid son of a bitch.

Oghren stopped abruptly when he entered the next room. The others crashed into him and cursed. “The hell?!” Tanner exclaimed as he felt Leliana’s arrow tip scrape his shoulder. He stopped complaining when he saw what Oghren was staring at. 

They were standing in what had to have been the biggest cavern in the Deep Roads. They were completely surrounded by golems that thankfully appeared to be sentient, for the moment at least. Standing at the end of the cavern stood another golem, only this one was bigger than the rest, and had a different shape as well, as if made from steel rather than stone. As they edged forward very carefully, Aedan could see small bolts of electricity flowing around it, this was not a comforting observation. When they were only a few feet from it, the golem spoke! “My name is Caradin. Once, longer ago than I care to think, I was a Paragon to the dwarves of Orzammar. If you seek the Anvil, then you must care about my story. Or be doomed to relive it.”

“The fuck?!” Tanner exclaimed, reloading his crossbow and aiming it at the colossal golem.

The other’s were taken aback also, a talking golem? “The Caradin? The one who made the Anvil of the Void?” Aedan asked slowly, weapon drawn and sheild at the ready, just in case..

The large steel golem tilted its head forward, attempting to nod. “Yes. Though I made many things in my time, I rose to fame and earned my status based on a single item: the Anvil of the Void.” He motioned to the great anvil resting behind him, high atop a mound of lyrium. “It allowed me to forge a man of steel, as flexible and clever as any soldier. As an army, they were invincible. But I told no one the cost. No mere smith, however skilled, has the power to create life. To make my golems live, I had to take their lives from elsewhere,” Caradin explained sadly.

Understanding took hold, but Aedan was having trouble grasping how a dwarf could use magic in any form, let alone apply it to their craft. “By elsewhere, you mean from people? The dwarves?” Caradin titled his great head forward once more. 

“Was it worth it?” Aleta spat, disgusted by this revelation.

“So said my king.” Caradin replied bitterly. “I had only intended to use volunteers, but he was not satisfied. And soon a river of blood flowed out of this place. Finally, it was too much. I refused. And so King Valter had me put to the Anvil next.”

“And after all this time, you’ve been wanting revenge?” Oghren asked, disturbed by this confession.

The steel smith shook his head slightly. “No, not revenge. The blow of the hammer opened my eyes. My apprentices had enough knowledge to make me as I am, but not enough to fashion a control rod. I retained my mind. We have remained entombed here ever since, and I have sought a way to destroy the Anvil. Alas, I cannot do it myself. No golem can destroy it,” Caradin replied, and Aedan found himself feeling sorry for the dwarf that once was.

At that exact moment Branka came charging in like an enraged bull. “NO! The Anvil is mine! No one will take it from me!” she shouted madly.

Caradin slowly turned to her, his armor crackling wildly, clearly intent on preventing her from taking his creation. Not taking his attention from the woman he called out to the party, “You! Please, help me destroy the Anvil. Do not let it enslave more souls than it already has!”

Aedan’s thought’s were working overtime. He needed to bring a Paragon back to Orzammar, and if both these idiots died fighting each other then this trek was for nothing. He knew they would have to pick a side, and now. “You said you were a Paragon, Caradin. Will you help me if I help you destroy the Anvil?” 

Before Caradin could answer, Branka interrupted. “NO! Do not listen to him! He has been a prisoner here for centuries, stewing in his own madness. Help me claim the Anvil, and you will have an army like you’ve never seen!” she shouted.

Oghren intervened. “Branka, you mad, bleeding nug-tail! Does this thing mean so much to you that can’t even see what you’ve lost to get it?” he growled.

Branka scoffed. “Oghren, look around! Is this what our empire should look like? A crumbling tunnel filled with darkspawn spume? The Anvil will let us take back our glory!”

The warden had made his choice. “No. The Anvil needs the lives of your people to make golems. It cannot be allowed to be used again. We must to destroy it.”

“Thank you, stranger. Your compassion shames me,” Caradin said gratefully.

“NO! YOU SHALL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME! NOT WHILE I STILL LIVE!” Branka screamed, utterly hysterical now.

“Branka! Don’t throw your life away for this!” Oghren urged, trying, but failing to reason with her. He sighed. “Just give her the damn thing! She’s confused, maybe once she calms down, we’ll be able to talk to her,” he mumbled, turning to Aedan, almost begging him to reconsider.

Aedan shook his head. “I’m sorry, Oghren. That’s not a chance I’m willing to take.”

“Bah, you are not the only master smith here, Caradin! Golems, obey me! Attack!” Branka shouted as she pulled out a rod of some kind, summoning all the golems around them.

“A control rod! But… my friend, you must help me! I cannot stop her alone!” Caradin exclaimed. Aedan began moving towards Branka and Oghren moved with him, eager to prevent more destruction. 

Sten and Alistair joined forces to keep the golems away from the mages. They rushed the stone constructs hard, ramming into them with as much force as possible, and even with their combined strength it was difficult. “This is crazy!” Alistair exclaimed as he ducked then shoulder barged one that took a swing at his head, making it stagger back slightly. “We won’t be able to do enough damage before they kill us!” Sten’s reply was only a throaty grunt as he brought his boot up high and slammed his foot forward, then heaved his great sword down, and slammed the hilt into the golems’ shoulder, cleaving a huge gap between its’ neck and shoulder.

Their only saving grace was that the golems were slow, and took their time to unleash an attack, which Alistair and Sten used to their advantage, rolling and sidestepping out of fatal blows.

Jovey stood by Wynne and Aleta, growling dangerously at anything that came near them, hoping to intimidate them. Wynne was able to slow the golems down even further to an almost standstill with her frost magic, but didn’t have much in the way of awesome fire power. Aleta, however, was able to compensate for this setback. Her earth magic enabled her to take on a single golem with her stone fist spell. Any golem that bypassed Jovey and Wynne copped a boulder to the face, and bowled over. Like the golem heading for them now. 

Wynne thrust her staff forward and a sphere of ice began to manifest at its tip. With a gasp she released the ice and it catapulted at the golem, and upon contact, began to spread all over its torso then down its arms and legs. The golem quickly began to slow down, and eventually came to a complete stop. Aleta smiled at the older woman and just as she was about to congratulate her, heard Jovey bark a warning. She spun around and had almost a minute to react when another golem was gunning for them. 

She dropped her staff and brought her hands close to her stomach and began to mutter something as she moulded and shaped the crackling energy that was forming in the space between her hands. “Hurry, girl!” She heard Wynne urge her on anxiously, and Jovey bark frantically. Finally she was ready, the energy had transformed into a gravelly substance and was growing at a rapid rate. Just as the golem was a few steps in front of her, she hurled the earth forward, and it blasted the giant behemoth backwards so hard it rolled off the ledge and into the lava below. Aleta collapsed into a heap, drained. Wynne rushed to her side and released a white glow from her hands, reviving the young mage. “You did well, child.” Aleta smiled weakly back and slowly got to her feet.

Leliana and Tanner had given up on using their bows, their arrows and bolts merely bounced harmlessly off the stone exterior of the golems and instead joined Zevran in the fray, using their daggers with speed and precision to try and bring down the stone colossus. They performed some impressive acrobatics, jumping, somersaulting back flipping and dodging, keeping the enemy always at an arms length while they searched for any other weakness to exploit. 

Morrigan had transformed into a giant bear and was wrestling with one of them, hoping that the new-found strength might be enough to give her an edge, while Caradin summoned some of his own golems to help even the score, though this took time. He needed to charge the electricity around his cage so to activate another control rod.

Branka proved to be as tough to fight as the golems. Sten and Alistair were holding their own and kept the worst off Aedan and Oghren, so the two could inflicted significant damage. The lady-smith was surprisingly fast for her size and by the time they had caused her some real damage, the ‘friendly’ golems had begun to move in on those targeting for Jovey and his mages.

“Stop this madness, woman!” Oghren grunted as his great axe came crashing down on her shield.

“Never!” Branka exclaimed wildly. “I have given too much to walk away now, and nothing you can say will change my mind! Die!”

He must have realised that she was too far gone now, and the berserker in Oghren knew what had to be done. Unleashing attacks with such force that he was driving her back against the rock, the dwarf shouted a war cry as he knocked Branka’s sword and shield out of her hands. With her weapons scattered around her, the Paragon smith stared wide-eyed disbelief at her husband, the reality of her predicament now dawning on her. “I almost had it all and you took that away from me too! End it now, Oghren, you witless bastard!” She spat angrily. He obliged and with all his strength he cleaved her skull in two. 

Aedan looked up to asses the rest of the battlefield and watched as the ‘friendly’ golems pillaged their enslaved brethren, smashing them into rubble. When the last hostile golem fell Aedan made his way back to Caradin. “Another life lost, because of my invention. I wish no mention of it had made it into history.” Caradin said remorsefully.

“Yeah, you ain’t kidding. Stupid woman... I always knew the Anvil would kill her,” Oghren added as he walked over to Aedan and the others, wiping the blood spray off his face.

Caradin said nothing for a moment. “But at least it ends here. I thank you for standing with me, stranger. The Anvil waits for you to shatter it.”

_Maker help me, I’d like to shatter you, golem_ , Alistair found himself thinking.

Caradin continued. “Is there any boon I can grant you? A final favour before I am freed from this burden?”

Aedan thought for a moment, then turned to Oghren. “You lost your wife because of this Anvil. Oghren, is there anything you want?”

The short red-head thought for a moment before saying gruffly, “Hmph, don’t suppose you could bring Branka back? Maybe make her a golem, like you?”

Aleta put a hand on his shoulder and said quietly, “You do not want that, my friend. She is gone, let her rest in peace.”

Caradin nodded, quite agreeing with her. “I would not do such a thing to her, even if I could.”

Oghren sighed. “Somehow I didn’t think so. Then I don’t want anything to remind me of… this. Best it’s just done.” He went quite then.

Leliana spoke up. “There is still matter of the election. We still need a Paragon to get the Assembly’s support, no?”

Caradin seemed to consider this. “For the aid you have given me, I shall put hammer to steel one last time, and give you a crown for the king of your choice.” When he came back, he was holding a magnificent crown in his giant hands, which he handed to Aedan. “There, it is done. Give it to whom you will. I do not wish to hear their names, nor anything more of them. I have already lived far beyond my lifetime. I have no place here.”

Aedan nodded, not really sure what to say. This was such a sad end to a sad tale. “I will destroy the Anvil, as we agreed, Caradin.”

“That would please me, human,” Caradin replied, and if he was smiling under there, Aedan wouldn’t have been able to tell. Caradin guided him up to where the Anvil sat. The warden picked up the hammer, raising it in the air, then brought it crashing down destroying the anvil in one blow. There was a white flash, then the anvil, or what was left of it, lay in ruins. 

Caradin nodded his thanks and walked over to the edge of the cliff. “You have my eternal thanks, strangers. Atrast nal tunsha. May you always find your way in the dark.” Then he stepped out into the air, letting himself fall into the lava below. 

Leliana said a prayer for the dwarf Caradin had once been and then touched Oghren’s shoulder. Oghren looked up at her and half smiled, though it never reached his eyes. “Well, that pretty much beat the sod out of how I imagined it. Ready to get back and share the news?” She could see the sadness on his face, and hear it in his voice. She smiled back and nodded, knowing he was not ready to speak about Branka yet. Leliana gave his shoulder another squeeze and said, “May she find peace with the Maker, and return to the Stone.” Then she fell back into line with the rest.

Aedan nodded his acknowledgement and turned back to where they emerged from and began the long journey back to Orzammar.


	15. Redcliffe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fresh air at last! After a well-earned break, Aedan and his company head out to Redcliffe where more than one surprise awaits them. All cannon belongs to Bioware. Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Fourteen: Redcliffe

Another three weeks later the group had finally made it back to Orzammar, none worse for the wear. Aedan was exhausted, and would have given almost anything for a long warm soak. Wearily he led his party to the assembly, crown in hand, and was not at all surprised to see they were still at each other’s throats. “Lords of the Assembly, I call for order! This argument gets us nowhere!” the Lord Steward yelled over the masses.

“Then why these delaying tactics? I call for a vote right now! My father has one living child to assume the Aeducan throne. Who would deny him that?” Bhelen demanded vehemently.

Harrowmont turned to face him. “Your father made me promise on his death bed, that you would not succeed him.” 

Just then, the Lord Steward noticed the wardens. “Well, wardens. What news do you bring?”

Aedan stepped forward and held up Caradin’s last masterpiece. “I have a crown here, forged by the Paragon Caradin, for his chosen king.” He held the crown up high for all of them to see. 

There was wild whispering and gasps all around the room and Oghren had to speak up to be heard. “Caradin was trapped in the body of a golem. These wardens granted him the mercy he sought, releasing him and destroying the Anvil of the Void. Before he died, Caradin forged a crown for Orzammar’s next king, chosen by the Ancestors themselves!”

Bhelen scoffed. “And we are supposed to trust this? The word of a drunken sod and Grey Wardens known to be in Harrowmont’s pocket?”

“SILENCE!” the Lord Steward boomed, glaring at both Harrowmont and Bhelen. “This crown is of Paragon make and bears House Ortan’s ancient seal. Tell us warden, whom did Caradin choose?”

“Caradin wished for me to give it to whomever I choose,” Aedan answered, not at all enthusiastic about this. He was clinging to the less than a one percent chance this wouldn’t end in bloodshed. He’d had his fill for a while.

Bhelen was outraged. “The warden knows nothing about us! Why would a Paragon entrust someone like this with such weighty decisions? This is ridiculous!”

The Lord Steward turned to him. “We’ve argued in these chambers for far too long. The will of the Paragon is that the Grey Wardens decide.”

Aedan nodded, eager to get this over with now. He held the crown to the Steward. “I give the crown to Lord Harrowmont.”

Harrowmont looked down at him, his smile was one of relief. “I appreciate your forthrightness, warden. You have acted with grace throughout this entire torturous process.” He then proceeded down the stairs to accept the crown. 

Bhelen charged down the stairs behind him. “I will not abide by this!” he shouted, already unsheathing his sword.

“And here’s where the fun begins!” Alistair sighed, drawing his sword as well, Aedan and his comrades following suit.

One of the members of the Assembly spoke next. “The Ancestors have spoken!”

“Harrowmont has been crowned king. Stand behind him,” Aedan warned, wanting to give the prince a final chance to back down, watching Bhelen and his men closely.

Orzammar's prince turned to the rest of the assembly, desperate now. “Would you let a surfacer decide the fate of the dwarves?” he demanded. There was whispers everywhere, but not in his favor. Bhelen seemed to sense it and swore, signalling his men to spring to action. Just as Aedan had suspected, the prince was a warmongering fool and he and his men would pay the price. Bhelen, his second and his men lay dead moments later. 

After the brutish display, Harrowmont walked over to Aedan. “I admit, I did not think even Bhelen would defy the word of a Paragon. Nor that as many would follow him, but most of Orzammar has seen him for what he really is, and I trust we will bring this insurgency under control.”

Aedan smiled shortly and nodded. “I have faith in you, Harrowmont.” The two shook hands and Aedan added, “I will expect you to send troops when I call for them, Your Majesty.”

“Indeed. More than anyone but my wife warden, and I thank you for it. Those loyal to the throne will begin preparations for a surface mission immediately. Orzammar will fulfil its treaties.” He bowed to them and before they left the underground's halls he said with a warm smile, “I wish you luck against the Blight, wardens. May we foster another four centuries of peace.” 

* * * * *

He saw it flying, it was descending fast, flame bursting along its wings, purple fire breathing out of its mouth... It roared loud, painfully, then landed on a cliff, slowly turning its head. It almost seemed as if… 

“Wake up!” Aedan’s eyes snapped open and he instinctively reached for his blade. Then he registered Alistair’s urgent tone. “You’re awake. Did… did you feel that? It was almost as if… as if the Archdemon _saw_

us!” He stopped deathly still for a few seconds, listening for something. “Wait, did you hear that?” he said as he got to his feet.

Aedan rubbed his eyes, desperate to get the sleep out of them so he could focus. Then they came out of the bushes, darkspawn. The others woke quickly as Alistair, who had taken first watch, roused as many as he could before the rabid creatures were upon them.

Alistair, Aedan and Oghren cut down as many as they could while the others got to their feet. A hurlock was towering over Aleta, about to swing its sword, but Sten was right there, bringing his own great sword straight down through the hurlock's middle. As the two pieces hit the ground, the Qunari reached for her hand and reefed the mage to her feet, giving her a quick once over for any injuries and once satisfied, threw her staff at her and they began defending themselves.

Jovey and Wynne had already killed four genlocks, and was chasing after a fifth. Morrigan was frying any that came near her, but couldn’t help from her tent off in the distance. The rogues stood in a pool of darkspawn blood, and were raiding their corpses. That was the last of them, for the moment.

Alistair turned to Aedan, his expression grim. “I guess it’s as Duncan once said. ‘If we can sense them, then they can sense us.’ We’d best be careful from now on. And this camp isn’t safe any longer, so I suggest we pack up and camp elsewhere.” Aedan nodded in agreement. While packing up his tent, and other supplies, he noticed Morrigan was standing beside Aleta. The warden slowly made his way over, just in case things got out of hand, but they actually appeared to be talking. Well, Morrigan was, Aleta appeared to be listening, even if she was glaring and gripping her staff a little more forcefully than was needed. When Morrigan left, Aedan decided to ask Aleta what it was about.

The mage frowned. “She apologised for anything she had said that had offended me. Particularly in the Circle, and Brecillian Forest. It’s very strange, and I don’t know what to make of it. Or to trust what she says.”

Morrigan apologised? What was that about? He thought. “Well, maybe she’s turning over a new leaf?” He hoped that was what was happening, but from the look on Aleta’s face, highly unlikely. Morrigan had a purpose for everything she did, and he knew her distaste for Aleta ran deep, but not why. He sighed, he would definitely have to have a chat with his femme fatal, and soon.

* * * * *

It didn’t take very long to reach the next destination from Orzammar. Redcliffe castle and its coupled village was a seven day trek from the dwarven surface and Aedan was very grateful for that. He had more than his fill of those darkspawn infested tunnels and sweating his ring out with all that lava and magma flowing through the caverns, not to mention the psychotic extremes of dwarven politics! However it did put things into startling perspective. What the dwarves went through every day just to survive. He had deep respect for them in that regard.

Aedan’s companions too, seemed to be happy about leaving Orzammar, all except for Oghren. The poor bastard, he’d been through just about as much as Aedan had. When he emerged from the iron gates of his home, he'd almost vomited, and it wasn’t because of his drinking habits. No, he had vertigo. He thought he was going to fall up into the sky, but to his credit, he had adjusted marvelously well. Then there was the fallout that was Branka, his late, adulterous wife.

Aedan as well as Wynne and Leliana had approached him about this during their travels, believing he needed to vent, but it seemed that topic was off limits. Apparently a bottle provided more comfort than conversation. He’d told Leliana and Wynne to stop trying to coddle him, much to Morrigan’s amusement, and flat out threatened Aedan to never breach the subject or he was going to cleave him in two. Aedan put that down to the anger talking, but the warden decided that once he had earned the berserker’s respect, things would change, because if he kept his thoughts and emotions bottled up he would self-destruct. Until then Aedan intended to monitor how much alcohol he consumed; just enough to make him merry but not enough to send him into a stupor. 

Most of the group kept their distance from Oghren, upon learning about his Berserker talent, with the exception of Wynne. She seemed genuinely interested in this fighting style, and also happened to have a weakness for the drink too, much to the wardens’ surprise. Aleta also seemed to have a soft spot for him as well, though she wasn’t particularly keen on him once he’d had a few.

And so now here they were, on the outskirts of Redcliffe village when Alistair pulled Aedan aside, away from the group, his expression full of worry. Cousland frowned at him and asked, “Alistair, what gives? You’ve been acting like a loon since we decided to come here. Are you alright?”

Alistair looked at his feet for a long time before meeting his comrade’s gaze. “I, yes, no – I mean… Look, can we talk for a moment? I need to tell you something I probably should have told you earlier.” 

Aedan shifted his leg up on a nearby stone and adjusted his sword further across his side. “Yes?”

He took a deep breath before replying. “I told you before how Arl Eamon raised me, right? And that my mother was a serving girl at the castle and he took me in? The reason that he did that was because, well, because my father was King Maric, which made Cailan my half brother, I suppose.”

Nothing could’ve prepared Aedan for that. The noble knew he was hiding something, like maybe a bastard nobility heritage or something, but royalty?! 

When Aedan didn’t say anything right away Alistair began to stammer a little, clearly worried about what he was thinking. “I..I would have told you, but it never really meant anything to me. I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan’s rule, and so they kept me secret. I’ve never talked about it to anyone because anyone who knew either resented me for it or they coddled me. Even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. I didn’t want you to know for as long as possible. I’m sorry.”

When Aedan was able to collect himself he simply said, “Damn!” His thoughts rolled into overdrive. The stakes just suddenly tripled. So did the risks, but no matter what was going to befall them, Alistair was Aedan’s friend first and fellow comrade, brother almost, and royalty along with all its consequences second, for now at least. “I mean, you’ve had to keep this quiet for so long, I can understand why but it’s one hell of a surprise!” He then crossed his arms and added, “You know I’ve only been to court a handful of times, but you do hear the stories, so I guess it’s not such an uncommon thing.”

Alistair sighed in relief. “Ah good I’m glad, it’s not like I got special treatment from it. At any rate, that’s it. That’s all I wanted to tell you. I thought you should know about it.”

“That’s it? Alistair, do you even realise what this means? You’re the heir to the Ferelden throne! You could turn this whole civil war around and unite the Bannorn!” Aedan exclaimed, unable to suppress how appealing this was, and what good fortune he had, as fleeting as it was. This was a brilliant political advantage.

But Alistair didn’t share his friends’ view. In fact he felt the complete opposite. “I have no illusions about my status, Aedan. It was always made very clear that I am a commoner and now a Grey Warden and in no way in line for the throne. And that’s fine by me.”

When Aedan was about to interrupt him and say something else to the contrary, Alistair held up his hand and silenced him. “No, if there’s an heir to be found it’s Arl Eamon himself. He is not of royal blood but he is Cailan’s uncle and more importantly more popular with the people, though if he’s really as sick as we’ve heard….oh, no, I don’t want to think about that. I really don’t. So there you have it. Can we move on? And I’ll just pretend you still think I’m some nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens.”

Aedan just shook his head. Obviously he had put a lot of thought into this, especially recently. He was absolutely adamant about it, and there wasn’t a thing Aedan could say that would make him change his mind, so the young noble decided to leave it alone, for the moment. Right now, however, he was right about one thing. Arl Eamon’s sickness. He was now the top priority and they had to get into the castle, as fast as possible. “Alright Alistair, but in my opinion you would make one hell of a king.”

Aedan left him to think on that and fell back into line with the others, telling them only what they needed to know. Most were shocked; especially Morrigan who at first thought this was a very bad joke. But others took it well, Wynne and Leliana especially taking a liking to this new development. Sten, Aleta, Zevran, Oghren and Jovey didn’t seem particularly swayed either way once they got over the initial shock. Tanner however, seemed uncharacteristically interested. He looked at Alistair with renewed respect, and what looked like sympathy, as if knowing something the rest did not. It made Aedan think there was something more to the tight-lipped rogue than he was letting on. 

Just as they were about to cross over from the farmland and into the village the group were approached by a villager equipped with a bow and arrows. He looked frightened and desperate. “Oh thank the Maker you’ve arrived! You’ve got to help!”

“Whoah, woah. Just slow down and tell us what’s wrong good man,” Aedan said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He did so and after taking a deep breath he explained. “We’re being attacked at night by corpses! This will be three nights in a row tonight! We’re defenseless, with only the local militia to help out where they can. Not to mention the Arl is gravely ill, were desperate!”

Aedan turned to Alistair who stepped forward. “Who is in charge then? Who is rallying the men to fight?”

“Bann Tegan is here in the Chantry but it’s the Knights led by Ser Perth that are the real fighting force right now,” the man replied.

“Bann Tegan is here? Arl Eamon’s brother?” Alistair said, sounding surprised. Aedan turned to him for clarification and Alistair said, “He’s a good man, like Arl Eamon. This is a man we can trust.”

That was enough for Aedan. “Lead us to him.” They followed the scout over the bridge and downhill before crossing another bridge that led into the town square. There were crude fortifications everywhere as well as a few archery targets and men practising with their bows. Torches were being prepared and men were sharpening their blades, their faces truly grim. They followed the scout into the town’s Chantry where they were met by a tall blonde man, dressed in elegant finery. He carried a sword and shield and when he turned to face the party, he frowned.

His eyes darted to each of them, sizing them up most probably. The man said to the scout that escorted them here, “Thomas, isn’t it?” The scout nodded. “Who are these people?”

“They’re Grey Wardens, sir,” Thomas said. 

“Bann Tegan, it’s me, Alistair. Do you remember me?” Alistair piped up, stepping forward and smiling weakly. 

The Bann looked him up and down for a few moments before a smile crept into his face. “Alistair? Is that really you? Though you’ve come a long way from making mud pies, it’s glad to see you’re alive and well, excellent news!” 

Alistair smiled warmly and the two clasped forearms. “Yes, likewise.” His face fell as he added, “What in the name of the Maker is going on here? Your scout said something about corpses coming to life and attacking the village?”

By now, Thomas had departed and they were alone with the Bann. His face was ashen and with much regret in his eyes he explained. “For two nights now, the dead have been rising from the castle and attacking us for Maker knows whatever reason. I fought alongside the local militia and even though some of us survived, we took heavy casualties. Men, women and even the children. I have lost all contact with the castle and now that the Arlessa has dispersed most of my brother’s knights, the village is practically defenceless. Considering what is happening in Denerim right now with Loghain rallying up for civil war, we will not get help from him. The other lords are still bickering with each other so there will be no help from them either. I fear we will not make it out alive tonight.”

The Bann looked Alistair in the eye, his tone pleading. “Alistair, I hate to ask but the people really do not have any other option. Please will you help defend the village tonight?”

Alistair sighed. “If it were up to only just me then of course, but it’s not. Aedan leads our band. It’s ultimately his decision.”

Tegan turned on Cousland next, the same pleading look in his eyes. “Please, Grey Warden. Innocents are being slaughtered. Even the children.”

Aedan’s mind had already been made up but he wanted to ask everyone else. “Thoughts?”

“Of course we should help, it’s the right thing to do,” Leliana said, her voice oozing approval. Wynne nodded, in clear agreement. Oghren, Zevran and Jovey didn’t care either way and of course Aleta concurred. However, as always, Morrigan was the stumbling block. There was no way she intended to help these people unless he made her. 

Sten was not impressed either. “There are no darkspawn here, and nothing to gain. It is a fool’s errand.” Aedan was going to force the issue and tell him off, he was still steamed about the scene in Orzammar, and was looking for a reason to grill him. 

But Aleta intervened. “We must get to the Arl, Sten. This is the most direct route, and we must stay focused on our goal.” 

The giant rose a single eyebrow at her and Aedan swore he saw the corners of his mouth twitch. When Aedan heard his almost amused reply of, “Perhaps…” it became blatantly obvious that Aleta had much sway with him. Morrigan was disgusted with this display, but held her tongue. Aedan thought he saw a flicker of jealousy in her eyes too, but as quickly as it appeared, it faded just as swiftly. He felt a little conflicted about that, but then Sten was impressively built, though without charm. That thought calmed him, for he knew Morrigan had an eye for charm and pretty things and he knew he could provide both for her, should she ask for it.

“Then it is settled. We will aid you. Where would you like us to start?” Aedan was itching to get out and fight, but he needed to know who was the go-to man or woman.

Tegan sighed and smiled with relief. “Excellent. We will not forget your part in this, come what may. Murdock, he’s the town mayor and knows much more about strategy than any of us.” He nodded and turned to leave.

Once they were outside the Chantry, Aedan took in more of his surroundings. He realised that even though it had been sometime since he’d been to Redcliffe, the scenery had changed very little. It still was nestled in the deep valley and overlooking Lake Calenhad, quite beautiful in different circumstances. Over to his right Aedan could see the town’s waterfall and windmill behind another bridge leading up to the castle. It was a quaint little town.

Aedan led the group past the archers practising and through a wooden barrier over to a man in leather armour who was speaking to another of the militia. Once he had finished giving the order he turned to them. “You are new to the village. What can I do for you?”

“Alistair and I are the Grey Wardens the Bann sent word to you about. These are our companions. We’re here to help.” Aedan shook hands with him and smiled.

“About time! Well there are a few things I need done before nightfall. The first and most important of these is to get the smithy up and running again. Owen, our blacksmith, has shut himself inside the forge and refuses to help us out. I need you to change his mind. We’ll stand a better chance if our swords and armor aren’t wrecked.” Murdock said, arms folded. There was a severe tone of disapproval in his voice.

“Why has he closed the forge?” Alistair asked, puzzled.

Murdock rolled his eyes. “He says his daughter is still at the castle, she was a serving maid for the Arlessa. He wanted me to put a search party together to bust down the doors and save her. We need the men here and no-one can get to the castle right now, not until we can stop these attacks. But he won’t listen to reason. Bah!” He threw his hands in the air angrily. “We could use his talents and he wants to be selfish!”

Alistair and Aedan looked at each other. They both knew what the other was thinking. “Where is the black smithy located?” Murdock pointed them in the right direction and they made their way over to it. 

Aedan knocked on the door and a sad voice replied, “What do you want?”

“Please can you let us in? We need to talk to you, Owen.” 

“Who’s us?” Owen asked, not really seeming interested.

“Two Grey Wardens and our companions,” Cousland replied.

Something must have made him change his mind, because he unlocked the door and let them in. As soon as he entered the room the smell of home-brewed alcohol gone awry assaulted Aedan’s nostrils. It felt like they were on fire. He wasn’t at all surprised to hear Oghren say with a grin, “Smells like Tapsters, ah home sweet home!”

Alistair chuckled. “Somebody’s been drinking!”

“Right, well I let you into my home, what do you want – hic!” Owen asked, clearly very drunk.

Once the burning sensation began to subside the warden replied, “Why are you drinking like this?”

Owen stumbled over to a counter top and picked up a picture of a woman and handed it to him. “My daughter, Valena. She’s up at the castle and I fear for her. The mayor won’t send help so I won’t help him either. This is easier than worrying myself sick about her.”

“There is more than just you and your daughter to consider, Owen. What about the villagers, and the assault tonight?” Aedan said gently. The warden knew that if their places were switched he’d be difficult too, but he would not sit by and do nothing, least of all drink.

Owen shook his head, saying angrily, “I don’t give a damn about them lot! Only my Valena! She’s all I have since my wife died.” He then calmed down a bit, seeming to be thinking about something. After a while he said, “Look, I will open the forge if you promise to find her.”

“I cannot promise that. What if I don’t find her?” Aedan replied.

“Then the smithy will stay closed. I want a promise!” Owen stumbled backwards and slammed his fists on the table. 

Alistair looked at Aedan helplessly. He could see the pain in Owen’s eyes, but he also knew what the odds were that she could be alive. Already regretting what he was about to do Aedan said, “And if she is dead?”

Hope flared in Owen’s eyes. “It would be better than sitting around here, wondering my whole life.”

“Then yes, I promise I will find your daughter, dead or alive.” The warden shook his head. He couldn’t believe he’d just said that. 

Neither could Sten. “Is this a promise we will not be able to keep, warden?” He folded his arms and stared the human down. Aedan looked to Aleta, hoping she would say something, but was shocked to see she was glaring at him also. 

“What was that?” Owen said, glaring pathetically at Sten, hanging onto the chair he was sitting on for dear life.

Sten then turned his gorgon gaze at Owen. “I was not talking to you, human.”

Recoiling as though the Qunari had slapped him, Owen cringed and said nothing further to the giant. “I gave my word, Sten. I will keep it.” The Qunari grunted his disapproval but said nothing more on the matter. 

With renewed spirits Owen said, “Alright, tell that Murdock I will reopen the forge, but I'll need supplies. Tell him to get them in here as fast as possible, I need to get as many blades and armor repaired before nightfall.”

They then took their leave of him and made their way back to Murdock. He was naturally pleased with the outcome. “Excellent. Your next task is to seek out a dwarven merchant named Dwyn. He has a warrior’s background and would significantly impact on tonight’s assault. But he has not warmed to the village and might be hostile.”

At the mentioning of this merchant, Aleta and Sten had exchanged a serious look. They were very eager to visit him and when the group arrived Aedan found out why. Murdock was indeed right about Dwyn not wanting to fight, Alistair practically had to drag him out of there by his hair. But it was Sten who made the dwarf change his mind.

“You purchased a Qunari blade from a human trader in Orzammar, Dwyn. You will return it, _now_.” Aleta demanded as she entered the house.

He looked her up and down and laughed. “And what makes you think I would just hand over this blade to a shrimp like you?”

Sten stepped forward and grabbed him by the front of his tunic and growled, “Because if you do not I will tear your throat out and break your legs. Now return my blade, _basra vashedan_.” 

Dwyn held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. “W..w..woah, hold on there. He didn’t tell me he took it from a _live_ giant! Here is the key, it’s in the lock box over there.” He pointed a shaky finger to a section of the house. After Aleta retrieved the blade, Sten threw him to the ground and Dwyn left for the center of town, muttering under his breath.

When they were outside, Aedan watched as Aleta handed over Sten’s great sword. Even though he felt he was intruding on something utterly private, the warden could not tear his eyes away from what he was watching.

Sten’s eyes narrowed on her hands that held out the object he had thought he’d lost forever. “Asala, back in my hands... Strange, I had almost forgotten it. Completion.”

He ran his fingers along the glint of the blade then back down toward the hilt and grasped it, slowly bringing it up to his nose, then lowered it to his side. He then looked at Aleta, who was smiling softly at him. “Are you sure you are merely a lost mage? I think that you must be an Ashkaari to find a single lost blade in a country at war.”

Even though she had no idea what an Ashkaari was, Aleta felt as though she had just been paid a huge compliment, especially from a man who came from a country that thought very little of her kind. Let alone a woman of her kind. She wanted to say so many things to him, but instead she restrained herself to simply saying, “You are welcome, Sten. What will you do now?”

The Qunari tilted his head to the side and actually smiled. “My sword is in my hand again, I should put it to use. And I could deliver a much more satisfying answer to the Arishok’s question if the Blight were ended. Don’t you agree?”

Delighted to realise what he was saying, that he was not leaving the group, Aleta asked, “So you will not be leaving the wardens?”

“I am one with the Beresaad. I have never abandoned the field or a battle unmet.” He stared her right in the eye, taking a step closer to her and sheathed his sword. Aleta’s heart pounded wildly in her chest. Even though his words seemed clear in their meaning, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it also meant something else, and the proximity of him was intoxicating her senses.

“Then, I am honored you will stay, Sten,” Aleta said huskily.

Just before he walked away and came to join the rest of the group, Sten bent down to grip her waist, pulled her close and whispered into her ear, “ _Indeed, it isn’t every beautiful and courageous woman who has her own Beresaad. I will see you and the wardens reach the Archdemon_.” Aleta blushed right to her roots and didn't bother to hide the desire smouldering in her eyes.

Aedan looked from Sten to Aleta and when the kossith noticed Aedan’s eyes lingering on her, Sten said gruffly, “Warden?”

Cousland blinked once and turned to Alistair, who looked just as stunned as he was, before tearing his eyes away with a glare. Jealousy, Aedan assumed. He hoped the new-found prince had started to see what was going on, because if he was truly serious about her, Alistair had some serious competition on his hands. 

“Yes, Sten. We shall go back to Murdock and see what else he needs.” Aedan led them back to the Chantry again and Murdock informed them they had done everything he needed and suggested they visit Ser Perth up near the windmill, the highest point of Redcliffe village.

Once they got there they were greeted by a soldier in silver plate. Obviously he was no ordinary soldier. When he noticed them coming up the hill he greeted the party with a friendly smile. “Ho there, Grey Wardens I presume?”

The wardens and Ser Perth shook hands and Alistair nodded. “Yes. I suppose Murdock has told you of our arrival?”

“Yes, and mighty fine timing too, might I just add! We do not need much, though the men would fight better if they knew the Maker was watching over them tonight. Morale isn’t the best you see,” Ser Perth said grimly.

“The Maker does watch over you, Ser Knight.” Leliana replied. Aedan sighed. He really did not want to have this discussion with her. What she believed was fine - for her. 

“Yes, all men know of the Chant of Light and the Maker, but what my men need is physical evidence of this, a blessing or object of sorts. Something they can hold dear in dire times.” Ser Perth smiled kindly at her. 

But Leliana wasn’t having any of it. “If you believe and you need ‘evidence’ then you do not believe. You must earn – “

“Leliana, enough.” Aedan interrupted, ignoring her outraged glare and Tanner’s hands waving from behind her, attempting to signal that the warden not argue with her. “We can debate philosophies later, for now we need to help where we can.” Then he turned to the knight. “What exactly is it you want me to do? Bring the revered mother here and bathe your men in holy water or something?”

The knight shook his head. “No, nothing to that extreme. There are some amulets here and we would appreciate it if the mother might bless them so we can wear them into battle.”

It seemed a reasonable request. “Yes, I can do that.” They hurried back to the Chantry and talked the mother into performing the ritual. Though she was not eager to lie to the men, she did as she was asked. Leliana glared at Aedan the entire way back to Ser Perth. 

He was very appreciative of their efforts. “Well thank you for doing that, Grey Warden. There is nothing further I require.”

“Then we shall make our stand here,” Alistair said. “And kill as many of those bastards as we can!”

* * * * *

Nightfall came quicker than could have been imagined, and just as they said it would happen, they party watched the dead pour from over the drawbridge of the castle and down into the village. Aedan’s group met them head on before they could get to the heart of the town, Alistair and Aedan leading the charge. They were followed closely by Ser Perth and his fellow knights.

They came at the warriors first in groups of six and seven, drooling and wailing, their flesh falling from their limbs. Aedan bashed his shield into one of them, gagging as he smelled its rotting flesh. It fell to the floor and he sliced it open, moving onto the next one. Alistair stabbed one in the gut and kicked out, sending the rest of the group sailing like a domino effect.

Ser Perth and his knights made quick work of their groups as well and as Aedan watched them tear through the waves of undead he could see more and more of them emerging from the distance.

“There’s no end to them!” Leliana cried as she drew her blade across one of their necks. It fell to the ground with a thud. She drew her other blade and hacked at another one trying to flank her. 

Zevran flexed his blades and decapitated another two undead as they lurched forward to attack. “Agreed, warden. We must get to the villagers.”

“They are slowing, Leliana. Just a little more!” Alistair called back, blocking then hacking again. If he left the knights overwhelmed, there'd be none to defend Redcliffe should the wardens fall. But just as he said that, a massive wave of them ran down the hills. Alistair gritted his teeth, they were in serious trouble. 

Aedan turned to check on the mages and had an idea. “Morrigan, I need you to throw a fireball at this group, a big one. It should light this tar and block them off from this entrance, then we can get down to the villagers.” 

She nodded and did exactly as he asked. She was spot on, and the corpses snarled in anger, realising they couldn’t get any further. They exchanged triumphant looks, but before he could say anything to the effect a scout came rushing up to them. “Ser Perth! The town is crawling with the undead! We need help!”

“Understood. Grey Warden, we can hold the line here. You and your companions head down to the village, save as many as you can!” Ser Perth yelled over the screeching undead, turning to Aedan. The warden nodded and motioned for the others to follow. The scout ran quickly and it wasn’t long before they reached the bottom. 

The undead must have swum their way from the castle, because they were everywhere. Murdock and Dwyn were fighting hard to hold the barricades, but the enemy was climbing over them and tearing at the straggling militia. Incensed, Aedan charged right in there, Jovey at his heels, and gutted any that stood in his way. Alistair seemed to have the same idea and he ran along the other side of Aedan, slicing at stragglers. 

Tanner and Leliana stood out of the fray picking off any corpses that got too close, Oghren took on his own group, trying to cover Murdock and Dwyn and Sten, with renewed vigour, decimated any corpse that dared make a move on the mages. 

They were going at it for hours, but just as dawn broke they had destroyed the lot of them. Murdock lost only a few of the militia but most had survived. Aedan was so tired and he let himself take a breather on the steps of the Chantry. Jovey sat at his feet, panting like crazy, covered in corpse gall and blood. Alistair and Oghren joined him, saying, “I could really go for a pint right about now!” The warden had to laugh.

An hour later and they were standing by Bann Tegan who had emerged from the Chantry, the Reveared Mother by his side. “Dawn arrives, and we survived the night. We are victorious!”

The crowd that were before them cheered and some cried they were so overcome with relief. “And though this victory came at great cost, we must remember that none of us would be here were it not for the heroism of these good folk beside me. I thank you, good sirs, truly the Maker smiled on us when he sent you here in our darkest hour.” Tegan turned to Aedan and Alistair smiling.

“You’re welcome, Bann Tegan. We need to press on, however. We must see the Arl.” Aedan said wearily, turning away. 

Tegan grabbed his shoulder. “Please wait, surely we can rest for a moment? The Revered Mother wishes to say a few words.” 

The warden looked at Leliana and sighed. He suppose he owed her at least that. Cousland nodded and the mother said her prayer. “Let us bow our heads and give honor to those who gave their lives in defense of Redcliffe. They who have perished here, walk with He who is your Maker. Long may you know the peace of His love.”

Leliana and Wynne bowed their heads and closed their eyes. “So let it be.”

Tegan bowed to the mother then turned back to the crowd. “With the Maker’s favor, the blow we delivered today is enough for me to enter the castle and seek out your Arl. Be wary and watch for signs of renewed attack. We shall return with news as soon as we are able.”

Then he turned to the wardens. “Now, we have no time to waste. Meet me at the mill, we can talk further there.”

Aedan couldn’t agree more and so he led the party back up the hill. Once they arrived, Tegan was looking over into the distance. From this vantage point they could see the castle. It was here that Tegan was looking at it, seeming far away. “Odd how quiet the castle looks from here. You would think there was nobody inside at all, but I shouldn’t delay things further, I had a plan to enter the castle after the village was secure.”

Alistair looked at him closely and he continued. “There is a secret passage way here in the mill, accessible only to my family.”

“Why didn’t you say something before now then? That could have saved us much time!” Morrigan said, clearly annoyed.

“I knew you would choose to enter the castle instead of aiding the village and we needed warriors. I’m sorry if I – Maker’s breath!” Whatever he was going to say, Tegan cut himself off and pointed behind the group. 

Running towards them was a finely dressed lady and a member of the castle guard. She looked frantic, terrified and when she spoke, Aedan heard the distinct Orlesian accent. “Tegan! Thank the Maker you yet live!”

Tegan was astounded. “Isolde! You’re alive! How did you – what has happened?”

She shook her head, clearly not wanting to talk about it. “I do not have much time to explain. I slipped away from the castle as soon as I saw the battle was over and I must return quickly. And I, I need you to return with me, Tegan. Alone.”

There was something in her tone, and how she refused to look him in the eye that made Aedan suspicious of her motives. Even if she was the Arlessa of Redcliffe. He stepped forward and said, “Be careful, Tegan. This could be an ambush.”

She was outraged. She turned on Aedan like a viper. “ _What_?! I – Who is this man, Tegan?! And is that you, Alistair?”

Alistair and Aedan exchanged stunned glances. “Yes Lady Isolde, it’s me. How have you been?” Alistair’s tone implied that he really couldn’t give a damn how she was, and Aedan had to smile. She ignored him though.

Tegan sighed. “If it were not for their help Isolde, I would not be here. I owe them my life.”

Unwillingly she pulled herself back into line. “Pardon me I, I would exchange pleasantries but considering circumstances…”

Aedan only nodded, taking an instinctive dislike to this woman.

“Please, Isolde, we had no idea anyone was alive in the castle we must have some answers,” Tegan pleaded with her.

“I know you need more of an explanation but I, I do not know what is safe to tell.” She looked truly upset but the warden couldn’t help feeling she knew more than this.

“Tegan there is a terrible evil within the castle. The dead waken and hunt the living. We caught the man responsible for it but still it continues! And I think Connor is going mad… I have survived but cannot flee the castle. There is so much death! You must help him Tegan. You are his uncle, you could reason with him! I don’t know what else to do!” 

“Gone mad?” Wynne asked, intrigued. However, this was not something Isolde was going to elaborate on either. Wynne watched her closely as she asked another question. “And what of the Arl? Does he live?”

“My husband is alive, yes. But he will not stay that way for long if we do nothing!” She cried.

Isolde was close to hysterics by now and Aedan had had enough of her theatrics. “Then we must act quickly and make a decision.”

“The king is dead, and we need my brother now more than ever. I will return to the castle with you Isolde,” Tegan said, clearly manipulated by her tears.

“Oh! Thank the Maker. Bless you Tegan! Bless you!” Isolde wept for joy, hugging him. 

It didn’t seem like they had any options, and even though Aedan’s instincts told him this was probably going to lead into a trap, he figured he’d probably do the same thing if it were his family. “It would seem that we have no other options. We will do this your way Tegan, though I must say that I think you’re playing right into her hands.”

Isolde gave him a scathing look but said nothing further. Tegan turned to Aedan and said, “I have no illusions of dealing with this evil alone, you and your companions on the other hand have proven quite formidable. Isolde, can you excuse us for a moment? We must confer in private before I go to the castle with you.”

“Tegan, do not take too long, I will be by the bridge.” And with that she left.

Once she was out of earshot, Tegan turned back to them again. “Here’s what I propose. I go in with Isolde and you enter the castle via the secret passage. My signet ring unlocks the door. Perhaps I will distract whatever evil is inside and increase your chances of getting in unnoticed. What do you say?”

“You’re going to get yourself killed. But your life is your own.” Aedan folded his arms and sighed as he realised just how much damage a woman could do when she battered her eyelashes and played innocent.

“This is for the best. I would prefer to go inside with you but I have no choice in the matter. Ser Perth and his men can watch for danger at the castle entrance if you can open the gates from within. They can move in and help you. I don’t think there’s anyone else who can help you. If you choose not to go then it’s up to me to do what I can.” Tegan handed him something. “Here is my signet ring, it will open the lock in the mill. Whatever you do, Eamon is the priority here. If you have to get him out of there, do it. Isolde, me, and anyone else, we are expendable.”

“Only if it absolutely comes down to it. We will try to save as many as possible.” Alistair replied, taking the ring and putting it in his satchel.

Tegan smiled. “You are a good man, Alistair. The Maker smiled on me indeed when he sent you to Redcliffe.”

“So we are just going to send him in with that woman?” Leliana said, disapproving of this plan. “It’s too dangerous.”

“One fool plan on top of another,” Sten added.

“But I can delay no longer,” Tegan said in a rush. “Allow me to bid you farewell, and good luck.” And he left. 

“She is hiding things, warden.” Morrigan warned, leaning into her staff.

“I know. But we have to get into the castle as soon as possible. The Arl can’t possibly have much longer to live if he’s been this sick for so long.” Aedan readied his blade and entered the mill and put the ring into a trapdoor slot. With a satisfying click the lock opened and they made their way into the passage.


	16. Connor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Within Castle Redcliffe lurks something dark and terrible. The wardens and their comrades must tread carefully. All cannon belongs to Bioware. Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Fifteen: Connor

As it turned out the passage led them right into the dungeons of Redcliffe castle. “How typical,” Morrigan sneered.

They moved further in, picking off the odd corpse that came to life. The party had just about reached the end of the corridor when they watched a corpse rise then explode, its parts and gall smeared across the walls and floor. When they came closer they were surprised to see someone else – anyone else - alive and in one of the cells. He was wearing Circle robes and they were stained with blood. Aedan’s instincts told him he was more than he seemed.

“Is this your handiwork, mage?” Aedan asked, his blade close to the bars. The man inside didn’t seem to hear so the warden asked again, “Are you alive?”

Slowly, he raised his head. “Yes, I am alive, though I wish I were dead right about now. Who are you?”

“ _I_ ask the questions here, mage.” Aedan said impatiently. “Now is this your doing?”

The mage shook his head. “I know this looks suspicious, but this is truly not my fault. My name is Jowan, a mage from the Circle and I was brought here by the Arlessa to tutor her son.”

Alistair seemed taken aback by this. “Tutor? Connor is a mage?”

“Were you not listening, fool? The boy is one of us,” Morrigan drawled. Alistair only rolled his eyes.

“Yes,” Jowan nodded. “I am an apostate, run away from the Circle because I can perform blood magic – don’t look at me like that!” He cried as Alistair and Aedan glared at him, disgusted. “The Arlessa was desperate. Connor had begun to show… signs. She knew that the Arl would send their son away and she would never see him again, so she asked me to teach him how to hide his magic. The next thing I knew the dead had risen and taken over the castle.”

“So you are saying this is the child’s fault?” Wynne asked, clearly disturbed by the thought of it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tanner’s jaw twitch angrily. She knew what he would be making of this, and it was not good.

Jowan sighed. “I don’t know. I had only taught him the basics but he was having horrible nightmares long before I came on the scene, and you above all should realise what that might mean.” Wynne took this into consideration.

This was a wicked turn of events but Aedan had to know about the Arl. “And what of Eamon? What happened to him?” 

Jowan bowed his head again. “Yes, about that. I am responsible for that. I was instructed to poison him. I know it was incredibly stupid but I was desperate too. I was promised that everything would be smoothed over with the Circle if I did this thing for him. I – “

Alistair lost it and slammed his shield across the bars. “ _Who_?! Who told you to do this? I want a name, _now_!” 

Jowan jumped. “L… Loghain! The regent told me to do this…”

“ _Son of a bitch_!!” Alistair was so angry. Every time it looked like they had an opening somewhere, the regent would shut it off. Alistair swore was going to kill that bastard, if it was the very last thing he did. The others looked at him, Leliana putting a hand on his shoulder, but Alistair shrugged her off. She looked hurt but she was a big girl, she would be fine.

Aedan’s mind whirled into overdrive. If the Arl did not recover they were going to have to storm Denerim, and he knew they would not live to tell that tale. He turned to Wynne and Aleta. “If it’s poison, what are the chances you two can save the Arl?”

Wynne looked very serious. “I’m not sure. It would depend on how long it’s been festering.”

They turned expectantly to Jowan. “About twelve days now. He should be dead. Something unnatural must be keeping him alive.”

Alistair cursed vehemently under his breath and grabbed Jowan by his robes, ramming him hard into the bars. “If he dies, so shall you!”

“I’m so sorry! I really am! Please, I’ve made so many mistakes. All I want to do is help. You’ve got to believe me!” Jowan sobbed.

There was something in his voice that made Aedan think that he might actually mean what he was saying, that and Aedan himself knew a little something about regret. “You must think us all royally stupid.” Alistair snarled.

“No!” Jowan cried.

Alistair was about to gut him right then and there when Aedan grabbed his blade arm. He turned to his friend, surprised. “Do not do this. We might need him.”

Incredulously, Alistair said, “Don’t tell me you’re falling for this! This man is a blood mage! He does not deserve redemption!” 

“Agreed, warden. Have it done before he destroys someone else’s life.” Tanner said darkly, stepping forward to attempt to kill the mage himself.

Aedan swiftly stood between the two men and shoved them forward. To Tanner, he said, “I don’t know the details of what happened to you, Tanner, but you must keep your focus. This is not like what happened to Maria.” 

The mentioning of his late wife was enough to provoke the rogue into a fit of fury. He stared up at the warden and said dangerously, “How _dare_ you talk of my wife? Compare her actions to this filth?” He gestured to Jowan who was cowering against Alistair’s death grip.

“You are letting your emotions get the better of you. This is an atrocity, yes, but you must not let yourself become consumed by it. Blood magic and its abuses are abound. You are not the first victim and nor will you be the last.”

His dismissal of Tanner’s pain pushed him over the edge. “Selfish son of a _bitch_!” The rogue pulled out his knife and lunged at the warden. Aedan sidestepped him easily, Tanner’s rage making him clumsy. 

Aedan slammed his shield down on the rogue, knocking him to the floor, his knife thrown from his hand. “Walk it off and think about what I have just said.” Tanner gave him a filthy look but did as he was told, shoving Leliana away as she tried to console him. He also ignored the hurt look on her face.

Next the warden rounded on Alistair. He knew this was not the real Alistair speaking. He was angry about the poisoning. “Alistair, calm down. How could Jowan have performed any blood magic from his cell? He’s clearly been here for some time, and the corpses have been here for longer than that. This part is not his fault.”

Very slowly, Alistair released Jowan and lowered his blade. Aedan then stepped forward and opened his cell. “What are you doing?” Jowan said, clearly confused.

“This is your chance to help out. Do so, or by the Maker I will hunt you down and kill you myself.” Cousland stepped aside to let him pass. 

Jowan nodded. “I will. Thank you.” And after saying that he made a break for a different part of the castle.

“That was a stupid move, warden.” Sten said, glaring at Aedan.

But the noble stood his ground. “You know, you’re not exactly an innocent ray of sunshine yourself, Sten. Everyone deserves a chance to redeem themselves.” Sten glared at him some more but said nothing further, conceding his point.

“Well I happen to believe that was the best decision you’ve made yet, warden.” Morrigan said, clearly approving. She stood by him and said in a suggestive tone, “And you handled those two like a _man_.” 

Aedan raised an eyebrow at her and when she winked at him, he nodded and offered her a half smile and continued on. There would be time for that later, and now more than ever, he knew there would be a later.

After taking the stairs to his immediate right, Aedan led them out of the dungeons and into a cellar room. He turned to Alistair. “Any chance you might remember your way through here?”

He nodded. “Like the back of my hand. This was my home once, after all. Once we get through the top cellar, there will be a chapel wing and the armoury. That’s connected to the barracks and kennels. The servant’s quarters is linked to them and there’s a few storage rooms further along. The main corridor is off to the left after the servant’s quarters and the kitchens are directly adjacent to that.”

Aedan was impressed. “Wow!” Though he shouldn’t have been surprised, Aedan had grown up in a castle as well and he knew every nook and cranny in the place.

He laughed at him. “Yeah, well I explored this place all the time. It was one of my favourite past times.”

So they exited the cellars and true to his words, there were two rooms ahead of them, the chapel wing and the armoury. Aedan decided to go to the chapel wing first, since it was open anyway and there they fought four shades. The mages dispatched them quickly and they proceeded to the armoury. There were no enemies here and out of respect for Alistair they did not take anything for themselves.

They left the armoury and took a left. Big mistake. The barracks reeked of the undead. They charged at the group, and to Aedan’s horror, a few of them hurled fire balls at them. “Great, undead mages!” Oghren said sarcastically, as he head butted a corpse. It fell to the ground and he brought his great axe crashing down, splitting the corpse into pieces.

“Do not fear, dwarf, we will take care of them for you,” Morrigan teased. She turned to Aleta and smiled. Aleta frowned, erring on the side of caution, it seemed Morrigan was actually being nice to her. Morrigan was unperturbed, however. “Come, let us show these frightened soldiers how mages fight!” The witch of the wilds hurled her own bolt of flame and the mage-corpse wailed in pain. Next she aimed her staff at another one and bolts of lightning zapped it, killing it in one blow.

Revelling in her magic, Aleta was unable to stop herself from smiling, and joined in. She brought her hands to her chest then pushed out, sending an invisible force forward, knocking over an entire group of them. She then flicked her wrists up, and the foundations they were lying on ejected upwards, squashing all that was caught in the crossfire. Morrigan laughed whole-heartedly.

Alistair and Aedan watched the two, a little disturbed. “This is really creepy. Did you see how they just did that? Like they were in sync or something.” That was not the only thing Aedan noticed. He wasn’t dare going to say it aloud, but as he watched them standing back to back, decimating the rest of the corpses, the warden got a good look at them side on and couldn’t shake the feeling of how right they seemed to look together like that. Like two halves of a whole or something. He shook his head. They were nothing alike, not matter how well they kicked demon arse.

Once the area was cleared, the party moved on to the kennels. The mabari here gave poor Jovey a run for his money but he fought tooth and nail for Aedan, ripping out the throat of the mabari alpha. Sten and Oghren made short work of the rest and they found themselves in another corridor. 

“Hold a moment, Grey Wardens.” Zevran warned, stepping forward to disarm a wall and floor trap. When he was done they continued onto the servant’s quarters. It seemed the whole lot of them had been turned into corpses and Alistair felt a little sick as he cut them down. These were innocent people they were killing. For the sake of mercy, the wardens destroyed them quickly and were about to move into the next room when Aedan heard muffled sobbing coming from the back of the room.

He carefully made his way up the hall and opened the door. When he did, he heard a woman scream. Aedan held her tightly in his arms saying, “Hush. You are safe now.” She stopped screaming and stared up at him, then after a few uneven breaths she buried her head into Aedan’s shoulder and cried.

“You sly dog!” Oghren chuckled as he elbowed the warden in the ribs. Alistair smiled and rolled his eyes. Morrigan however, crackled her staff in irritation, or was it jealousy?

Aedan pulled her in front of him and said, “Are you hurt? What is your name?”

She looked up at him, her blue eyes swimming with tears. “My name is Valena. I was a maid to the Arlessa. All I want to do is go home and see my father!”

Aedan couldn’t believe his good fortune. “Then you can go, we’ve cleared a path that leads through the dungeons and out to the mill. Run.” She did exactly as he said and Aedan turned to Oghren. “You should learn to hold your tongue, dwarf.” But as he walked away Aedan could feel the grin creep up on his face. He was only human, after all.

They turned to look for the opening that would lead them into the main hall, and when they found it Alistair cursed. The main hall itself had been blocked off. “Damn!” Aedan cursed. “Alistair, is there another way in there?”

Alistair thought for a moment. “We could try to get in from the main gate. We’d just have to get through the kitchen and the courtyards.”

“Alright, lets move out.” They ran through the kitchens and down some stairs into the lower cellar and then found themselves in the courtyard. Aedan was going to move forward when Leliana and Zevran both put hands out to stop him.

“Can you not see them, warden?” Zevran whispered quietly.

He looked around carefully. When he couldn’t see any threat, Tanner added with a scowl his way, “Over there, in the bushes.” Once he squinted hard Aedan could see them, a group of corpses, led by a revenant, all watching them. 

“That sly son of a bitch!” Aedan muttered under his breath. Before he could form a battle plan, the revenant stood up and laughed. It used its pull technique and yanked the entire party to him. The next thing they knew the corpses were upon them.

Alistair threw his shield up to protect himself from the heavy mace that came heaving down. The warden blocked it a second time before slashing at its ankles. The corpse fell to the ground and Alistair slit its throat in one swift movement. He then turned to see where his companions were.

Leliana and Zevran had recovered the quickest and each one went to help out others. Tanner ran to Oghren and Sten, who where taking on the revenant quite unsuccessfully. He attempted to provide additional fire-power, as their blows, as powerful as they were, were proving to be too sluggish and gave the revenant the upper hand.

Zevran made his way to Alistair, helping him to his feet and joined Aedan as they sized up a group their own size. Jovey never left the mages. Wynne healed him up and the three of them picked off the archers on the rampart. When the stragglers were taken care of and Oghren sliced off the head of the revenant, Aedan raised the drawbridge gates and allowed Ser Perth and his knights entry.

“Ho there! You made it, Grey Warden! Thank you for letting us through the gates. Shall we enter the castle together? I am eager to see my Arl again.”

The warden nodded. “Yes, that would be wise.” 

And so they made their way up the steps of the rampart and into the main hall of the castle. The wardens was stunned at what unfolded. Bann Tegan was dancing about like a fool, Isolde stood off to the side and what was left of the castle guard were standing around, their expressions defeated. And a little boy, whom Aedan assumed had to be Connor, stood in the middle of the room, clapping his hands happily.

He and Alistair approached the boy carefully. As soon as he saw the two, his mood changed. Aedan’s gut churned as soon as he spoke. The demonic rumble echoing in his voice made it clear the child was possessed. “So these are our visitors? The ones you told me about, Mother?”

Isolde hung her head, tears welling in her eyes. “Y..yes, Connor.”

“And this is the one who defeated my soldiers? The ones I sent to reclaim my village?” His face twisted and he was no longer the child he should be.

“Yes,” was all Isolde could manage, the tears flowing freely now.

“And now it’s staring at me! What is it Mother? I can’t see it well enough.” His voice echoed all around the room and Aedan clenched his jaw tight, ready for anything.

“This is a man, Connor, like your uncle and father. And these are his companions,” Isolde replied lifelessly.

“He is nothing like my father. My father is weak and my uncle addled minded! I should have them slain on the spot!” 

Connor laughed evilly and Isolde screamed. “C.. Connor I beg you! Do not hurt anyone!”

“M.. Mother? What’s… what’s happening? Where am I?” Just then Connor’s voice sounded normal, like an ordinary child. A terrified child.

Isolde fell to her knees, overcome with emotion. “ _Oh, thank the Maker_! Connor, Connor can you hear me?”

But as quickly as it seemed he’d regained his sanity, he lost it once more, the demon within resuming control of its puppet. He shoved her aside. “Get away from me, fool woman! You are beginning to bore me.”

Isolde was stunned. As she lie on the floor she sobbed uncontrollably. It was then Ser Perth spoke up. “Maker’s breath! What has happened here?”

Isolde wailed, “Grey Wardens, please do not hurt my son! He’s not responsible for what he’s done!” 

“I find that hard to believe, Lady Isolde! You, Connor. What have you done with Bann Tegan?” Aedan replied, utterly disgusted. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Tanner's hands drop to his belt. Aedan gritted his teeth and prayed the rogue could keep his shit together.

Tegan stepped forward and danced his way around them saying stupidly, “ _Here_ I am! Here I am! Ha! Ha! Ha!”

The demon within Connor laughed. “I like him better this way; no more yelling. Now he amuses me!”

Isolde said urgently, “Connor did not mean to do this! It was the mage that poisoned Eamon – he started all this! He summoned this demon! Connor was just trying to help his father!”

The child nodded. “It was a fair deal! Father is alive, just as I wanted. Now it is my turn to sit on the throne and send out armies to conquer the world! Nobody tells me what to do any more!”

“ _Nobody_ tells him what to do any more, _nobody_!! Ha! Ha! Ha!” Bann Tegan added, laughing quite insanely now.

Demon-Connor turned on him. “Quiet uncle. I warned you what would happen if you kept shouting didn’t I? Yes, I did.” Then he turned to the wardens. “But let’s keep this civil. This man shall have the audience he seeks. Tell me, what have you come here for?”

“We are here to help, Connor” Alistair replied carefully.

“Help me? Help Father? To help yourself? Which is it?” He said, clearly not believing him. 

“To help the Arl, of course,” Alistair said cautiously. The ex-templar turned to Aedan and the noble nodded discretely.

The demon seemed satisfied with that. “So you’re a concerned well wisher then? Why didn’t you say that in the first place? All this sneaking around and killing is so unnecessary! But Father is so very ill, we really shouldn’t disturb him. Isn’t that right, Mother?”

Isolde looked at her son, terrified. “I… I don’t think…”

He interrupted her angrily. “Of course you don’t. Ever since you sent the knights away, you do nothing but deprive me of my fun. Frankly it’s getting dull. I crave excitement! And action! This man has spoiled my sport by saving that stupid village and now he’ll have to repay me!” 

As he said this, the men guarding Connor and Isolde, even Bann Tegan, rushed the wardens and their companions and Connor himself ran away upstairs. Damn! Aedan really didn’t want to kill Tegan so when he came charging at him, Aedan parried his attacks then hit him in the back of the head with the hilt of his blade handle, knocking him out cold.

They tried to do the same for as many of the others as they could but some of them refused to go down easily. After a few minutes of fighting they won and everything went back to normal. 

Once the battle was over, Isolde ran to Tegan’s side and helped him to his feet. “ _Tegan_! Tegan, are you alright?”

He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his head. “I… I am better now, I think. My mind is my own again.”

Isolde sighed and looked crestfallen. “Blessed Andraste! I would not have forgiven myself if you had died, not after I brought you here. What a fool I am.”

“You can say that again!” Aedan said angrily.

Tanner stepped forward now, grabbing Isolde and trying to comfort her. Isolde turned to him, her biggest pleading look yet. “Please! Connor is not responsible for this! There must be some way we can save him!” 

Even though he was utterly disgusted with both her and her son, Tanner understood what it’s like to be a desperate parent trying to save their child. He felt great pity for this woman, though she brought it all on herself. “I am not about to let them kill a child.” He stared the wardens down, as if daring them to argue with him.

But before anything could be decided, they heard a voice behind them say. “Connor is no longer a child. He is an abomination.” 

They all turned to see Jowan walk toward them. Lady Isolde tried to run at him, all her maternal instincts going wild. She looked as though she were going to claw his eyes out. Tanner held her tighter, but that only stopped her physically. Verbally she lashed out. “ **You**! _You_ did this to Connor!”

Jowan looked outraged. “I did not! I didn’t summon any demon, I told you! Please, if you’ll just let me help…”

“ _Help_?!” She screamed, tugging against Tanner’s grip unsuccessfully. “You betrayed me! I brought you here to help my son and in return you _poison_ my husband?!”

Tegan looked at Jowan carefully. “This is the mage you spoke of? Didn’t you say he was in the dungeon?”

Isolde glared at Jowan. “He was. I assumed the creatures had killed him by now. He must have been set free.”

Aedan stepped closer to her. “Yes, that’s right and I stand behind my decision.”

Jowan sighed and tried to smooth things over. “I know what you must think of me my lady; I took advantage of your fear. I am sorry, I never knew it would come to this.”

Tegan turned to Jowan as well. “Well I shan’t turn away his help. Not yet. And if Connor truly is an abomination – “

In a rush Isolde interrupted Tegan, desperate for them to see this from her point of view. “He is not always the demon you saw. Connor is still inside him, he breaks through. Please! I just want to protect him!”

Angrily Tegan replied, “Isn’t that what started this? You hired a mage to teach Connor in secret… to protect him?”

“If they discovered that Connor had magic then they’d take him away! I thought that if he learned just enough to hide it then…” Isolde sighed, knowing she was wrong, though that did not stop her looking pleadingly up at Tegan and Tanner. Both men were moved by her motives but said nothing, knowing there was no happy ending in sight.

Aedan did not relish having to slay a child so he turned to the others, hoping one of them might have a solution. “What options do we have?”

Alistair looked grim. “I wouldn’t normally suggest slaying a child, but… he’s an abomination. I’m not sure there’s any choice.”

Wynne sighed. “I do not like the idea of hurting the boy but…”

Sten, Oghren, Zevran, Morrigan and Jovey didn’t particularly care what happened, but Aleta, Tanner and Leliana did. Leliana crossed her arms. “We can’t kill a young boy, demon or no demon. Please don’t say we’re considering that.”

“There has to be another way to save him, surely?” Aleta added.

Tegan said, “Connor is my nephew, but… he’s also possessed by a demon. Death would be… merciful.”

Jowan put a hand on Aedan’s shoulder. “There is another option… though I loathe to offer it up. A mage could confront the demon in the Fade, without hurting Connor himself.”

Tegan sounded doubtful. “What do you mean? Is the demon not within Connor?”

Jowan shook his head. “No not physically. The demon approached Connor in the Fade while he dreamed, and controls him from there. We could use the connection between them in the Fade to find the demon.” 

Isolde grabbed onto this spark of hope. “You can enter the Fade then? And kill the demon without hurting my boy?” 

“No, but I can enable another mage to do so. It normally requires lyrium and several mages, but I have… blood magic,” Jowan said slowly.

“No.” Tanner said abruptly, shutting him down. “Blood magic is not an option.”

“And why not, if it will save my son? If there is a sacrifice needed, then let it be mine. I am his mother and brought this about,” Isolde said, pushing him off her and staring the rogue down. 

“You do not know what you ask,” Tanner replied fiercely.

Aedan turned to Wynne. “Jowan said we could use lyrium. Do you suppose the First Enchanter would aid us?”

Wynne nodded. “Yes. He does owe you and this is a worthy cause.”

“Then it is decided. I will go to the Circle and bring back mages and lyrium. No more innocent blood shall be shed for this demon but its own.” All parties seemed happy with this outcome.

“We shall be back in two days time. Jowan shall help you keep watch over Connor. Farewell.” And they left.

* * * * *

After a days travel they camped by Lake Calenhad for the night. As usual the groups dispersed; Morrigan on her own, Sten and Aleta, Leliana and Tanner, Zevran Oghren and Wynne, Jovey and the two wardens. Aedan was sharpening his sword when Aleta approached him. “May I speak with you, warden?”

He nodded and they took a walk. “You said that a mage will be going into the Beyond to confront this demon. Who will you send?”

He knew this was coming and he still had to make a concrete decision. “I was thinking Wynne might be our best shot, considering she’s more experienced than any of us.”

Aleta frowned. “She’s also our best healer. I think you should send me. If I die then you can still go to the Archdemon with her at your side.”

Aedan stopped her right there. “What are you saying? That your life is forfeit?” He searched her dark eyes for some sign of what she might be thinking. He could not. 

Aleta shook her head and frowned. “No. It’s just the practical way to look at it.”

And there it was again, that look on her face and how she said that just now. He looked more closely at her and his eyes widened in disbelief. Why hadn’t he noticed this before? The shape of her eyes, the cheekbones, the way her hair fell over her eye despite its long waist length, it all looked like _hers_. 

Aedan brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, curious as to the colour of them, and she recoiled sharply. “And what is it you think you’re doing, warden?” Brown, not amber. Yes, there it was again, the way she flared up. They even had the same look when they were angry, or felt threatened. What did this mean? “I.. what?” Aedan forgot her question. “Oh, nothing. You just, remind me of someone.” 

Aleta frowned. “Refrain yourself in future. Now about this demon. Have you decided whom you will send into the Beyond?”

“The Beyond?” Right, that’s how she knew of the Fade. How the Dalish had explained it to her. It made him wonder, and not for the first time, what happened all those years ago? What promise had been made on her behalf and why? Aedan wondered what theories she might have about that but for now he had to answer her. “What you say does make sense, and you do have more offensive power than Wynne does. Alright Aleta, if that’s what you want to do.” They walked a little more before he asked quietly, “What is Sten’s opinion of you wanting to go into the Fade?”

She was quiet for a while. “He does not know of my intentions.” 

Aedan stopped her again. “What are you talking about? Why haven’t you told him?”

They were almost at camp and she looked up at the bronzed giant by the fire light, her eyes softening a little. “Because he thinks very little of mages and abominations, it unnerves him I think. He does not care for the fate of the child, and so should I fail he will go on living. It is his way,” she said quietly. 

“He cares about _your_ fate, Aleta. You’re different. _You_ matter to him,” Aedan replied, following her gaze. “It's pretty obvious, you know.”

She sighed heavily, as though this was something she had been giving much thought to. Aleta leaned into her staff and turned away from Sten. “It does not matter, warden. What future could we have, if we survive? He has a duty to pursue and I...” She trailed off, sighing again. After several minutes of silence she turned to the warden. “That is irrelevant in the broader scheme of things. I may mean more than he previously thought, now he has Asala, this is true, but I have not yet proven myself in battle.”

Aedan frowned, unsure of what she was getting at. Then he thought about it, was she doubting her worth? Aleta had more than proven her ability, how could she think Sten would not see that? For reasons unknown he was ticked off. “So that’s what this really is about, proving yourself to him? Is this some stupid Qunari courtship thing?”

She bristled too. “Courtship? Do not be absurd. It’s about proving myself _to_ myself. You took me along because the Keeper asked you to, not because I had any special talent or merit. Yes, I am a mage but my power can sometimes be erratic. I must learn to wield it properly, like Morrigan and Wynne. This is my test and I _will_ succeed.” 

"You're a mage, correct? Aren't they looked favourably upon in the Dalish clans? Weren't you taught to temper your magic by Zathrian, or by whomever came before him?" Aedan asked, clearly confused as to how she had come this far without tutelage.

Something fierce glistened behind her eyes as Aleta said bitterly, "I began my study with my former Keeper, but Keeper Zathrian did not wish to pass on further secrets to a human. What I know now has been mostly self-taught, with the exception of a few friendly spirits in the Beyond. Obviously there has been serious gaps in my education."

Before he could respond she stormed off to her tent. _Well that went well_ , he thought, kicking himself. Of course she'd be feeling self-conscious, a lot had happened over these last eight months on the road. She'd given up everything she'd ever known, sheltered from life outside the Dalish. What an idiot he was to not have realised. With the intention of apologising for his short-sightedness, Aedan arrived back in camp and jogged to Aleta's tent. He was unsurprised to see Sten glaring at him from the fire. Aedan ignored him and called out to Aleta.

“Leave me warden. I wish to be alone,” she called back. 

With a sigh, Aedan shrugged his shoulders and took a seat next to Alistair. “What was that all about? Is Aleta alright?” he asked, concerned.

“She'll be fine. I’ve just gone about this all wrong with her. I was thinking one thing and she was thinking something totally different. I'll never understand women,” Aedan groaned, removing his plate armour and unrolled his bedroll. 

“That makes two of us then,” Alistair mumbled, staring morosely at her now dark tent and then at Sten.

“That’s women for you,” Oghren said, taking a swig of his pint. “Make no bloody sense at all.”

“Aedan, can I ask you something?” Alistair said, removing his plate too.

“Anything.” he yawned, settling himself down for the night.

“Are you and Aleta…?” He trailed off, hoping his friend would catch the drift.

Forget sleep, Aedan was wide awake now. “What in the name of the Maker are you on about, Alistair? Of course not!” 

Alistair beamed. “Right, right. That’s great news! I just thought… when you two went for a walk that…”

By the Maker he was daft. “Alistair I’m going to tell you something for your own good.” When he nodded Aedan continued. “I am not interested in Aleta, but Sten is. _Very_. And Aleta is interested in him as well. Do you get what I’m saying?”

Alistair sighed again. “I know, I've always known I suppose. He’s just so… _Qunari_ and she’s, just _wow_. It can’t work like that, surely? I mean, he's going to leave eventually, report to his Arishok, or so he says, and she'll be devastated. She deserves better than that. She deserves someone who'll stand by her while she figures out who she is.”

“Someone like you, you mean?” Leliana chuckled. The ex-templar blushed but nodded. “Ah, Alistair you are a hopeless romantic, no? Have you not noticed the way they look at each other?” Leliana said, her voice serene and nostalgic, just like when she was about to tell a story. “It’s so beautiful. Neither of them realise how deep their feelings go,” she swooned and sighed. “It’s like a romantic fairy tale.”

Alistair’s face fell. “Yeah, except instead of a frog her prince is a seven foot tall brooding Qunari! How in the sacred name of Andraste can I compete with that?”

Oghren handed him a pint and slapped his back. “You can’t. Especially if she’s already made up her mind. Take it from an old fool who’s been married before, son.”

Tanner joined them, and looped an arm around Leliana’s shoulders, apparently they'd made up. He reached over to Oghren with his other arm and swiped the dwarf’s canteen and took a swig, ignoring the berserker’s outraged “ _Oie!_ ” 

“Best you just put the whole idea out of your mind, lad.” Tanner said, nodding over at Sten who'd left to stand guard by Aleta’s tent. “There is no way you’re getting past that big guy. He’d head butt you and send you into a coma.”

“But he's just going to _use_ her!” Alistair said angrily. “He'll manipulate her feelings and wind up leaving!”

“I'm sure she's aware of this, Alistair,” Wynne said, joining them. “You must not interfere. Let this run its course.”

“Well, you are a prince, you know.” Zevran piped up, coming over to join the conversation and ignoring Wynne's stern look of disapproval. “I wonder if she cares for such titles? Maybe she’d prefer the expert ministrations of an Antivan elf reared by whores?”

Morrigan, who also joined them by the fire, squeezed in beside Leliana and Aedan and said to Alistair, “Or perhaps it is simply the size of the Qunari’s cock that sets her loins alight with desire?”

Tanner spat the grog out and spluttered as he tried not to choke on the honeyed liquid. “Well I think _someone_ has cock on the brain, and it’s not Aleta!”

Morrigan stared the outspoken rogue down. “And what if I have? ‘Tis not like _you_ would be man enough to fulfill such needs.” She sniffed arrogantly at Leliana and Tanner’s outraged faces. Aedan had to stifle giggles and dodge more glares from his friends.

Alistair glared at then all and took another pint, downing the whole lot. “Woah! Now that’s what I’m talking about boy! Wynne, another round over here!” Oghren laughed heartily.

* * * * *

The next day saw the group reach the Circle. First Enchanter Irving was stunned to see them so soon but helped out all the same. It took another day to return Redcliffe and when they made it back into the main hall of the castle, it seemed nothing had changed. Connor was still upstairs and Tegan, Isolde and Jowan were huddled downstairs.

They rose to their feet quickly when the three saw Aedan and his entourage. Isolde’s face lit up. “Oh! Thank you so much, warden!”

Alistair, even though he’d had two full nights of drinking with Oghren, still managed to sober up and be happy too. “I’m really glad we are doing this. It’s really the best thing for Connor.”

The mages prepared the lyrium and before long they were ready to begin. Irving stepped forward and said, “We are ready. Who will be entering the Fade?”

Most of the group turned expectantly to Wynne, and when Aleta stepped forward they were a little surprised, except for Sten, he was furious. “No, this I will not allow,” he growled, grabbing her arm and jerking her back roughly. 

Aleta looked up at him and tilted her head to the side. “And why not? It is the logical choice.”

“This is a dangerous plan, you do not know what awaits you there.” If Aedan were a betting man, he would say that the Qunari was worried.

“Yes, you have never been there before and you might get lost, or worse,” Alistair added. “Best to listen to him.” Sten grunted in approval in Alistair's direction.

Aleta gave him a dirty look but before she could say anything to the effect, Morrigan, of all people, came to her aid. “Stand aside, both of you. She is a capable mage and will return, child in tow. Now, back I say.” She held up her palm and lit it on fire in a threatening gesture. 

Alistair backed up quickly but Sten did not move. “You better mean what you say _witch_ , else I have your head as well.” 

Morrigan did not waver. “I mean every word I speak, Qunari. Now stand aside.” There was something in her tone that made him release Aleta and move.

Aleta turned to Morrigan and said, “Thank you. First Enchanter, I am ready.”

He nodded and they began. The mages began to chant and Aleta closed her eyes, felling exhaustion sweep through her.


	17. Haven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Into the Fade and out again, what a trip. Aedan vows to fulfill Bann Teagan's request for aid in the village of Haven. All cannon belongs to Bioware. Tanner and Aleta belongs to me.

# Chapter Sixteen: Haven

When she awoke, Aleta knew she was back in the Beyond. She'd always felt comfortable here, it was familiar, calming. Looking around her, she felt her senses amplify and listened. She could hear two voices, one she distinctly knew to be Connor’s and another, deeper, more frantic. It has to be the Arl, she thought. His seemed to be the more dominant of the two so she tried to follow it.

Taking twists and turns, watching white lights float past, she realised she must be getting close as she could see parts of a bedroom materialise before her. When Aleta saw a man standing by a bed calling out Connor’s name, she knew she was looking at the spirit of the Arl of Redcliffe. When she approached him, he seemed alarmed. “Who, who are you, young woman?”

Aleta used her calmest voice possible as she said, “Do not fear, Arl Eamon. My name is Aleta and I am here in your castle. I am looking for your son, Connor.”

“Connor? But what has happened? Where am I?” The Arl panicked, pacing backwards and forwards. “Am I dead?”

Aleta took his hands in her own. “No, you are not dead, but very, very ill. Your son, Connor has made a bargain with a demon to keep you alive. We are in the Beyond, the home of the spirits. I am going to release your son from whatever demon holds him captive. My companions will need your help, they have traveled a long way to see you.”

The spirit of the Arl calmed at her touch. “Very well. I believe all that you say. If I can, I will help you. I have stopped hearing Connor’s voice so I am sorry I cannot point you in the right direction.”

Aleta smiled. “I will find him, farewell.” And she left him there beside the bed and listened for Connor’s voice. It took a while, he was scared, but when she heard it she followed it quickly. 

She reached an area that looked similar to a library and there in the middle of it stood an image of Connor. She crouched down to his height and smiled. “Connor?”

The voice was that of a child as it replied, “Yes. And who are you?”

“I am Aleta and I am here to save you. Come take my hand.” She held out her palm but was on her guard when he slapped it away. 

“You are an intruder! You’re not here to help, you’ve come to hurt Father!” he wailed. Aleta readied her staff as he transformed into a purple female demon, one of Desire. It threw a bolt of electricity at her and Aleta responded with a wave of rock. It threw the demon back and impaled it on a protruding spike. Then it disappeared.

Inwardly, she cursed herself. How could she not tell that was a demon in disguise? How was she going to overcome this fear of inadequacy if she could not tell reality from fantasy? She continued on, listening intently for Connor’s voice and when she could hear him clearly she followed it to a place that looked like a child’s room. And right in the middle again was an apparition of Connor.

With more caution this time, Aleta said, “You, be you a child or demon?”

Connor smiled, looking quite innocent. “I am a child, silly. What are you doing here? You do not belong here.” If this really is Connor, he should be terrified by now. This is not Connor. Aleta readied her staff once more. “Tell me where he is, demon. Or die.”

The boy smirked and transformed into another Desire demon. This time it summoned a minor rage demon to aid it. Aleta’s eyes widened in shock, she didn’t know demons could summon other demons. Never-the-less, she lashed out and hit it with a burst of rock, throwing it against the Desire demon and watched it explode. The other demon shrieked in rage and zapped Aleta with a lightning bolt. Before the hit connected, the mage turned herself to stone, deflecting the electricity. She then used another burst of rock that punched a hole right through the middle of the demon.

Panting heavily, Aleta tried to catch her breath. _Remember your will is your most powerful weapon. You are not exhausted, you are strong_ , she told herself. With bolstered determination she got to her feet. Moments later she heard Connor’s voice again, this time more desperate and scared then ever. She took another moment to re-attune to the Beyond, letting it envelope her senses and before long she knew where she needed to be.

The last apparition of Connor stood before her in a room that looked like a study. This time there was no hesitation. Aleta didn’t even let the demon transform. She outstretched her hands and flicked her wrists inwards and the walls of the study collapsed on top of it.

Snarling in rage, the demon crawled from the wreckage, now fully transformed and summoned two rage demons. Aleta glared at them. _You are powerful_ , her thoughts echoed in her mind, and she blocked an incoming inferno, raising her hand up as a wall of the fade shielded her from the heat. She focused her rock burst on the two rage demons, lining them up so that when the rock hit them, it was hitting them both. Both demons fell backwards and dissolved into mere embers and that allowed the more powerful Desire demon to gain some ground. She ran at Aleta, and dodged every attack the mage threw.

Once she was close enough the demon hurled bolts of frost at her. Aleta felt the chilling power on her and cursed as her movements became sluggish, her concentration faltering. The demon laughed and attempted to throw a bolt of lightning at her but Aleta managed to turn herself into stone at the very last second. Denied of a kill, the demon threw everything she had at the mage, making her careless. Once the frost wore off, Aleta smacked the demon in the face with her staff and when she was lying unconscious on the floor, Aleta threw a rock burst at her face, dismembering the demon instantly.

Tired of these games, Aleta called out, “Face me demon!” In the instant she said this, a shimmering purple portal appeared, and she could hear the voice of the demon in her mind.

“Then come, mage. No more games…”

Aleta entered the portal and was transported into the heart of Connor’s sub consciousness. The Desire demon she had killed stood before her and smiled, inviting her to come closer. “There you are, young one. My what power you have to have killed my guardians.”

“You will die, just as they have died, demon. Now, release the child.” Aleta was in no mood for these games. She wanted to leave the Beyond and now.

But the demon wasn’t in any hurry. “Forget the boy, mage. Let us converse. I see what you want. A family, to be loved, to find out who you are. I can make this happen for you. And that tall, handsome, brooding Qunari you’re all hot and bothered for? I can make him _yours_ , you know. You just need to let me in…”

Aleta glared at her, disturbed that the demon could penetrate so deep into her mind. “I want nothing you can provide, demon. Face me and die!”

The demon sighed. “Such a waste. Very well.” And with that said, it was on. The demon was much stronger than her guardians, as Aleta found out as she was thrown over to the other side of the area. When she tried to get back up the demon chuckled. “Tsk, tsk, you should always kneel to your betters, young one.” She used her telekinetic power to cement her to the ground. She then hovered over to Aleta. “Now, this was fun but I have a kingdom to run and a child to torture.” She was about to reach in and rip out Aleta’s heart but howled in pain when her hands met with rock.

She released Aleta and she took this moment to summon an earthquake. The demon scrambled to get out of the way but got caught in between pieces of rock and the Fade. With a slight limp, Aleta made her way to the demon and grabbed her horns, yanking on them hard. The demon screamed in agony. “Release the child.” Aleta snarled in her ear.

Viciously, the demon hissed, “Never!”

“Then you will _die_!” Aleta threw her most powerful stone burst yet and broke every bone in the demon’s body. It fell to her feet and Connor – the real Connor - materialised in front of her. He looked terrified.

Aleta held out her arms, “It’s alright, little one. It is dead.” That’s all it took for him to run to her arms and cry his heart out. “Shhh, it’s alright now, no one will hurt you again.” Aleta squinted as sight and sound faded away from her. She felt drowsy again, but clung tightly to Connor.

The next time she opened her eyes she was in the arms of Sten. She blinked, this had to be a dream. “She has awakened, warden,” Sten murmured, his eyes never leaving hers. Aedan smiled, turning to the others in relief when he saw Tanner staring intensely as the kossith held her, and the child, Connor, in his arms. His heart ached as memories of Liam and Maria flooded through him. Tanner had held them like that once, but he fought to push the memory to the back of his mind. The warden was right, he was getting too emotional and needed to focus on the task at hand.

“Connor!” Isolde’s voice was thick with emotion. As Sten set them down, Connor scrambled from Aleta’s lap and ran into the arms of his mother and uncle. 

The family embraced and Aedan gave them a few minutes before saying gently, “Lady Isolde?”

She turned to look at him and smiled. “Thank you, Grey Warden. You have saved my son, I owe you everything.”

“Actually, it is Aleta who saved your boy, not I,” he replied, beaming as he turned to Aleta. She was very tired, and leaned into Sten's chest for support, but looked extremely pleased with herself. 

Isolde reached out and embraced Aleta. “There are no words I can say to sufficiently express what you have done for me this day, but I am forever in your debt. If there is anything you should ever need, call on me and I shall do what I can to aid you.”

Aleta herself seemed stunned to receive such gratitude, and said coarsely, “Er, you’re welcome, Lady Isolde.”

She then turned to Aedan. “Now that my Connor is safe, he will be sent to the Circle, won’t he?”

“Yes, my Lady, but it is not such a bad place,” Jowan answered with a sad smile, clearly regretting ever leaving it, Aedan bet.

Isolde sighed and watched her son, sleeping in Tegan’s arms. “Yes, I am sure it is. Such a cruel twist of fate, but I am grateful he is alive. Now, to the matter of my husband. He has been terribly ill for some time now. Magic is only keeping death at bay and there has been no herbal remedy that helps. I had sent the knights to search for the Urn of Sacred Ashes of Andraste. I believe that is the only thing that can save him now.”

Tegan nodded. “Yes, I believe that too, but we need the knights here to guard the castle and the town, should Loghain’s civil war reach our doorstep. Would you help us? I know you have helped us once already. But if we are to unite the Bannorn and prevent Ferelden from crippling itself, we will need my brother’s help.”

Aedan knew this would be on the cards and he was not all that eager. The warden felt as though they were getting side-tracked and fast. “Bann Tegan, I already have the Archdemon to contend with, I cannot help you.”

Tegan stepped forward. “This is all relevant to your quest, warden. You will need my brother and his knights. He will unite the Bannorn and they will in turn fight for you against the Archdemon. Please, say you will help us.”

Aedan looked at everyone else and could tell they were thinking the same thing. However, he had a point. It just seemed like a long shot that the Arl would even survive until they found this urn. Sighing he said, “What leads do you have then?”

Tegan smiled. “Thank you, warden. All our information points to a scholar in Denerim, by the name of Brother Genitivi. He has researched the most about the Urn. I would visit him immediately and see where that takes you.”

* * * * *

The trip to Denerim was a two week endevour, and during the journey, Tanner took the time to apologise to the warden. “Hold a moment, warden.”

Aedan let the others set up camp and joined the rogue. “Yes?”

Tanner adjusted his crossbow over his back and stroked his stubble thoughtfully. “What happened at Redcliffe, I was wrong and I apologise.”

Aedan bowed his head slightly. “No, there is no need. You’re still hurting and you’ll keep on hurting but each day it’ll get a bit easier, though never leave.”

Tanner’s eyes narrowed on the warden carefully. “That sounded genuine. Speaking from experience lad?”

Aedan nodded as visions of his family haunted him, and of Fergus, but did not elaborate. Tanner took the hint and nodded also. “Fair enough warden, we’re good then?”

“Yes, we’re good.” Aedan watched as the rogue tipped his head in acknowledgement and turned to find Leliana, no doubt to pass the time for the rest of the evening. Aedan also thought it time to check on Aleta, since they had parted on awkward terms last time they spoke. He found her down by the riverbed, washing out her canteen and cooking utensils. He kept glancing from her to the campfire, hoping to catch her eye and wondered what he could say to smooth things over.

She did look up and found him staring at her but must have misread his intent. The next moment Sten appeared from seemingly nowhere and, upon noticing her discomfort, stood in front of her, breaking their eye contact. The warden was getting fed up with these stone-walling tactics and was seriously concerned there was going to be an argument between he and Sten in the near future. Aedan decided to let it go for now, give her a couple more days to cool off then he was going to talk to her whether she wanted to or not and Sten would have to stand up or back off.

Aedan did not want to stay long in Denerim, he wanted to post-pone the political death trap for as long as possible. That and they didn’t want Loghain knowing they were in the capitol for as long as possible. They found Brother Genitivi’s house, and after knocking a few times, got no response. Aedan asked Leliana to pick the lock, and they entered to house, where they saw a man standing at a dinner table. He turned around and stared at them incredulously. “What are you doing here?” 

Alistair thought there was something odd about his expression, and the way he spoke made the warden think something wasn’t right. Nine people and a dog break into the man’s house, and yet he’s calm as can be? “We’re looking for someone, a Brother Genitivi. Do you know where we can find him?”

The man frowned. “Brother Genitivi? Why are you looking for him?”

“I was told of his search for the Urn of Sacred Ashes. I need to find the Urn, to save the Arl of Redcliffe,” Alistair replied, the uneasy feeling in his gut growing.

Then the man watched the wardens carefully. “He was on the trail of the Urn, yes, but whether he found it or not, the Maker only knows. I haven’t seen Brother Genitivi in weeks. He’s sent no word, it’s so unlike him. I am afraid something has happened to him. Genitivi’s research into the Urn may have led him into danger.”

“Does that mean you think he’s in trouble because of the Urn?” Aedan asked, trying to put two and two together.

He shrugged. “Perhaps the Urn was lost for a reason. I pray for Genitivi’s safety, but hope dwindles with each passing day. I tried to send help, but some knights from Redcliffe came looking for him not long ago. I sent them after Genitivi, but they too, have disappeared. This search is a curse, on all of us. Some things are not meant to be found, I know that now.”

Alistair glanced at Aedan, and when the other warden nodded discretely, Alistiar knew that his friend was under the same impression he was – this was a trap. He took a step forward. “I do not believe in curses. Regardless, I need to find the Urn.”

The man sighed. “So be it. All he said before he left, was that he was staying in an inn at Lake Calenhad, investigating something in the area. Good luck, may you find the answers you seek.”

Just then, a breeze swept through the room. It was then that they smelt it. Death, decay. Aedan wandered around the room, trying to find the source, but it was when he neared a door at the back that the man ran over to him. Blocking the entrance with his body, the man stammered, “Wh.. what are you doing? You can’t go in there!”

“There is something off back there, friend, something foul. Just making sure nothing was wrong, that’s all,” Aedan replied, not moving an inch.

“I’m sorry, but guests are not allowed!” The anxious man cried. Now the entire party was certain something was amiss. “There is nothing in there but books and papers. I’d rather they weren’t disturbed.”

“No. you’re hiding something, and I have a real good idea what that is,” Aedan scowled, stepping towards him. As he did, the man pushed him back, pulling a dagger from behind him. The man tried to stab the warden with it, but he was too slow. Aedan stepped to the side, bringing his sword down across his neck. 

As the man’s headless body hit the floor, Aedan stepped over him and opened the door and peered inside, though it was Leliana who found the body. “It would seem that we were set up, Aedan. This is the body of Weylon, Brother Genitivi’s assistant,” she said.

“How do you know that?” Aedan asked, raising an interested eyebrow.

“He’s holding a journal, clearly marked as belonging to Weylon,” she added with a playful smile, holding the journal up so he could see it. Cousland read the first few pages, to see if there was anything in it that might help, but there was nothing of note. He looked up at the others, and asked them what they thought. 

It was Sten who spoke first. “The man you killed said something about an inn at Lake Calenhad. Perhaps we should search there, warden?” Aedan wasn’t sure if he was trying to bait him, or if he was simply putting forward an idea. Damn his impassive features. 

“I agree. What if Brother Genitivi did go there, only to be led into a trap? We should go there and investigate,” Leliana concurred. The warden looked around at the others, they were all nodding in agreement.

Upon arriving at the inn, Alistair made inquiries to the bartender, who was looking around nervously, trying to signal to him that trouble was afoot. With an experienced gesture, Tanner and Zevran threw their knives and didn’t even flinch as the two other men in the bar charged towards them, only to have the knives impaled in their windpipes. 

The poor bartender spluttered about frantically, almost disbelieving what his eyes saw. “You.. you... just _killed_ them! In my _bar_!”

Zevran looked at Tanner, who smirked. “Oops, sorry.”

“Great party trick, huh?” Alistair chuckled as he turned to the bartender. “Those two are a riot! Now, if you would be so kind as to tell us what happened to Arl   
Eamon’s knights that passed through here, we’ll just be on our merry little way.”

The bartender tried to look away from the two dead men on his floor and think. “Th.. they did come through here not three nights back. Got jumped by these two,” he gestured to the bodies. “I’ve heard them talking about a place called Haven, somewhere in the Frostback’s. Dreadful place if all it has is assassins.”

“Come now,” Zevran laughed. “We’re not all bad, I assure you!”

The bartender’s eyes almost bulged out of his head. “You’re... you’re an?!”

“Assassin? Oh yes!” Zevran sheathed his daggers and put a finger to his lips. “But shhh, don’t tell everyone, yes?”

The poor bartender shook his head wildly, he’d had enough of all this killing business. Aedan gathered the party together and said, “Well I think we have what we need now. To Haven?” They were all in agreement, except Sten, who only hurrumphed in annoyance.

* * * * *

It took another four days to reach the Frostback Mountains and another half day to get accurate directions from the tiny village at the foot of the hills. Most of the townsfolk hadn’t even heard of the place and the flimsy map in the book that Leliana had swiped from Weylons corpse. It had blotches of dried blood in places, so they got lost quite a few times. However, two more days of wandering the snowy peaks led them to a hidden glade where the party saw rising smoke in the distance. “There!” Alistair said, adjusting his cloak that he purchased from the little town below. “That smoke! That has to be Haven, thank the Maker!”

As they walked up to the village, they were stopped by what looked like a guard. “Stop. What are you doing here? There is nothing for you here,” he said, staring them down suspiciously and blocked their path.

“We are Grey Wardens, and have business here,” Aedan replied stubbornly, referring to Alistair and himself.

The guard crossed his arms and shook his head. “No, you do not. I would have been informed if someone was expecting a… visitor.”

“We’re looking for someone called Brother Genitivi. Is he here?” Alistair asked, refusing to take no for an answer.

“Who? Perhaps Revered Father Eirik will know of whom you speak. Unfortunately, he is ministering to the villagers at the moment, and cannot be disturbed.” The guard eyeballed them intensely and the two got the distinct impression they were not welcome here.

However, the mentioning of a revered father got Leliana’s attention. “A Revered Father? I have never heard of this.” The red-head frowned as she searched the guard’s face for signs of deceit.

The guard turned his piercing stare on her. “It has always been thus in Haven. We do not question tradition.”

Aedan watched the two of them and was a little unnerved to see Leliana balk first. Something was not right about this guard. So antagonistic. “Have you heard of the Urn of Sacred Ashes?”

“It is nothing but a legend,” the guard said quickly, a little too quickly.

“Well, the person that we’re looking for, Brother Genitivi, his research suggests it’s far more than just a legend,” Aedan replied, piling on the pressure.

The guard however, did not appreciate such tactics. He rounded on the warden and there was a finality in his tone as he said, “I do not know who this Brother Genitivi is, or what he says. However, I am sure people can convince themselves of anything.”

Realising this was all the information he was going to get before things got bloody, Aedan dropped the matter and bowed his head. “Very well. Excuse us then.”

Satisfied that he had won the debate, the guard stepped aside and said, “You may trade for supplies at the shop if you wish. Then I suggest you and your companions leave.”

Once they were out of earshot Morrigan stood next to Aedan and said, “Tis obvious they are hiding something, is it not?” Aedan nodded, something was certainly not right here. 

The guard did not give them directions to the shop, so Aedan checked the building that were closest. It turned out to be a villager’s house, but it was unlike anything he had ever seen before. There was an altar over by the wall, it appeared to be covered in blood. As they got closer, the smell was unmistakable. Anybody who had drawn blood on a battle field would know the stench. 

He heard Leliana swallow heavily a few times. “I had not expected to find something so unsettling,” she said, turning away into Tanner’s shoulder, trying not to gag.

Morrigan approached the altar and touched an un-bloodied part of the wood. “That is human blood.”

Alistair stared at her, disgusted. “I don’t even want to know how you know that, Morrigan.” She merely shrugged and turned away. 

They left the house and continued up the path where they soon found the shop. The wardens looked around at the wares, and after purchasing some health poultices, a few whetstones and a few more blankets, Aedan detected the smell of death again. He tried to walk into the back room, but again, was stopped. After an exchange of heated words, the shopkeeper tried to attack him. Aedan already knew what was coming, and soon the shop keeper fell. 

“Why do they keep doing that?” Wynne asked. “Such a waste of life.”

In the back room, lay a knight’s body. Upon closer inspection, the wardens realised this was one of the Redcliffe knights. Leliana knelt beside the corpse and whispered a prayer. When she was done, they went back outside where they were attacked by the armed men, presumably the rest of the guards. When they were dead, Aedan inspected the bodies, discovering some sort of insignia on the chest piece. It appeared to be from some kind of cult. He looked at Alistair, who appeared grim. He saw it too. They continued up the path, while being attacked along the way. 

As the group neared the end of the path, Sten stopped them. “Interesting strategy, warden. Tell me, do you intend to keep going north until it becomes south, and attack the Archdemon from the rear?” He was severely annoyed.

Aedan looked at him, confused. “Sten, what in the Maker’s name are you on about?”

The Qunari crossed his arms and stared him down. “The Archdemon is our goal, and we are heading away from it to find the charred remains of a dead woman. I will not simply follow in your shadow while you run from battle.”

“You think I’m running from the Archdemon?” Aedan said as calmly as he could, though the sting of the insult festered.

“It would appear so. Why else would you perform such menial tasks for people you do not know?” he replied brazenly.

The warden pushed through the group to stand in front of him, not giving a damn if the man stood a head higher than him. With a hot glare he said, “It does not matter what you think, Sten. _I_ am in charge here. If you have a problem with that, you have two choices. One, you can leave and go your own way, or two, be silent and deal with it. Either way works for me.”

Sten looked down at him, as though wondering if he was serious. He decided to test the warden’s resolve. “Or perhaps I should kill you and take charge of this group.”

Aedan stepped closer to him, and his glare deepened, his voice dropping to a low growl. “If you think you can take me, then go right ahead. You’ve seen what I do to those who get in my way. Qunari or not, stand against me and you will die.”

The two stood there, staring at each other for what seemed like an age, before Sten drew his sword and attacked. Had he not expected it, Sten probably would’ve taken the warden’s head clean off with his first swing. Having seen the Qunari fight, Aedan was able to predict how he would attack. The Qunari put a lot of force into his attacks, occasionally leaving his back exposed. All Aedan had to do was wait for an opening. 

There! His next swing will leave him open. As he drew back for his next attack, the warden stepped to the sword, bringing up his shield and slamming it into Sten’s side, knocking him off balance. With an angry roar, the kossith came at him again, swinging wildly. Aedan kept out of his range until he saw another opening, then slammed his shield into the Qunari again, this time knocking him to the ground. Before he had a chance to get to his feet, Aedan stood over him, his sword pointed at his neck. 

Before he could draw blood, Aleta stepped forward forward. “Enough! Don’t the two of you see we have bigger things to worry about than your foolish rivalry?” she said, glaring at the both of them. There it is again. This time I’m not imagining it! Aedan realised, she did had the same intensity in her eyes. After a few more seconds, Cousland sheathed his sword. 

As Sten got to his feet, he put a hand on Aedan’s shoulder, voice deep with approval, and in his eyes, respect. “I was wrong, warden. You are strong enough and I will follow your orders.”

Aedan watched him carefully, but the Qunari appeared quite serious. Is that how they did things in Par Vollen? Kick the shit out of each other until they respected their leaders commands? To be fair, though, Sten had followed every order to date. This was the first time he’d been questioned in the ten months they’d been traveling together. He decided that Sten meant what he said. “Very well, Sten. There will be no more complaints or outbursts like that again, understood?”

Sten bowed his head. “As you wish, warden.” 

As he made his way back to the front of the party, Aedan couldn’t help but notice the shocked expression everyone else wore as they parted for him to pass, except Morrigan. She wore a look that turned his cock to stone instantly, making him think about all the things he'd like to do to her, and soon.

Aedan led them further up the path, until they came to what looked like a Chantry. He knocked a few times, before turning the handle. Alistair put his hand on Aedan’s shoulder and nodded. The warden wasn’t sure if the nod was approval for the way he handled Sten, or whether he was ready to head inside. Could’ve been for both he mused. When the door opened, they heard a male voice giving a sermon.

“We are blessed beyond measure. We are chosen by the Holy and Beloved to be Her guardians. This sacred duty is given to us alone. Rejoice, my brethren, and prepare your hearts to receive Her. Lift up your voices, and despair not. For She will raise her faithful servants to glory when Her…” The voice trailed off when he saw the party approach. He frowned, before speaking. “Ah, I heard we had a visitor wandering around the village. I trust you’ve enjoyed your time in Haven so far?”

Was this guy serious? “Oh yeah, totally. Apart from everyone trying to kill us, and finding altars covered in blood, not to mention the dead Redcliffe knights, I’ve had a wonderful time. I was actually thinking about having my next holiday here!” Alistair’s joke was not meant to be funny. The man, who appeared to be a mage, stared at him vacantly for a few seconds. 

Then he turned and faced the villagers. “This, my brothers, is what happens when you let outsiders into our village. They have no respect for our privacy! They will tell others of us if we let them. Word will spread, and then what?” he turned back to Alistair. “You, stranger, do not understand our ways. You would bring war to Haven, in your ignorance.”

“Well, I hate to tell you this, but war is already here,” Aedan said, unsheathing his sword and readied his shield.

“We don’t owe you any explanations for our actions. We have a sacred duty! Failure to protect Her would be a greater sin. All will be forgiven.” Then he and the villagers attacked. 

Aedan assumed the old man was Eirik. He was the first to fall, the mages had focused their attacks on him and him alone. The rest of them killed the remaining villagers. Aedan knelt down beside Eirik’s body and searched him for a key. Instead he found what appeared to be a medallion of some kind. They then searched the other rooms before Oghren stumbled upon a secret door. Inside lay Brother Genitivi, alive, but badly injured. Wynne rushed to his side while the warden’s waited for him to heal so they could question him.

Genitivi looked up at them, clearly afraid and confused by their presence. “Who are you? They sent you to finish it?” 

“No, we are not here to kill you. We came here looking for you, Brother Genitivi.” Aedan said, kneeling down beside him.

“Then, you’re not one of them? Oh, thank the Maker!” he replied, relief flooding his features.

“Now I need to ask you something of great importance, Brother. Have you found the Urn of Sacred Ashes?” Aedan asked, helping the man to a sitting position.

“Did I drop to my knees in front of it and weep? No. Did I discover its location? Yes,” the brother replied with a wry smile. “Haven lies in the shadow of the mountain that holds the Urn. There is an old temple there, built to protect it. The door is always locked, but I know where the key is. Eirik wears a medallion that opens the door. I’ve seen what he does with it.”

Alistair grinned as he pulled out the medallion taken from Eirik’s body. Finally, something goes right! “Yes! That is your key. Take me to the mountain side, and I will open the door for you. Help me up, I’ll try not to slow us down.” Genitivi replied with a groan as Wynne and Aedan helped him up. 

After a short journey, they arrived at the temple door. “Here we are. Give me the medallion, and let’s see if I can remember how to do this,” Genitivi mumbled thoughtfully. He fiddled around with the medallion for a moment, before placing it into an indentation on the door. As he pressed it in place, the door clicked open. 

As they entered the room, Aedan heard Genitivi gasp. “What I would’ve given to see this hall in all its splendour, as it was meant to be. Still, sweep away the layers of ice and snow, and traces of beauty still remain.”

“Stay focused, Brother,” Aedan warned.

“What? Oh, sorry. I got a bit distracted there. These carvings were created just after Andraste’s death. And they may reveal things about Her life that we do not yet know. I think I need more time to study these statues and carvings.”

“Are you sure? It may not yet be safe.” Alistair told him, but the scholar shook his head. “Go, I will be alright. Perhaps my destiny was only to lead you here, to the Urn. Just be careful, that’s all I ask. The temple is… perilous.”


	18. The Urn of Sacred Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After checking out the disturbing village of Haven, Aedan pushes forward and up the Frostback Mountains to the holy resting site of Andraste Herself. All cannon belongs to Bioware. Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Seventeen: The Urn of Sacred Ashes

Aedan stared wide-eyed at the icy temple, scarcely believing they were here. He was not overly religious, but to be standing here in Andraste’s sacred place of worship, it was difficult not to wonder if she really existed and if the stories were true.

If he was lost in wonder, then Leliana was positively enthralled. Of everyone in the party, she was the most pious and looking at her now, Aedan couldn’t help but smile. She had tears in her eyes as she gazed at the large chipped pillars and wide open hallways with adoration, right up to the middle of the room where a large brazier pit sat, cold ashes in its bottom. “I.. I have no words for how this makes me... I...” the red-head bowed her head respectively and mumbled a few verses from the Chant of Light. Even Alistair and Aedan bowed and joined in the last few parts of the prayer.

Afterwards they began their search in the lower hallways, looking for a way forward. It didn’t take long before they met resistance. They were attacked by more cultists and after they had been dispatched the party realised they had come to a dead end. The group backtracked down some other corridors and headed for the great hall, where they had originally came through. In the middle of the room the brazier was now lit. Aedan looked at his companions who mirrored his look of unease. Someone had been here while they were gone. Tightening their grips on their weapons, Aedan was about to lead them to investigate the higher hallways when more cultist came out of the woodwork and attacked. 

After the last of this group fell, Alistair noticed two doors, one on either side of the staircase. He chose the one on the left, inside were more cultists, and a bronto. How the hell these crazies got a bronto from the Deep Roads here was a mystery, probably through trade, Aedan assumed. At one point during the fight, the bronto got distracted by Alistair and Zevran, who were working overtime to pierce its’ tough hide, but only appeared to anger it instead. Oghren took this opportunity to run up and jump onto the bronto’s back. As it thrashed around trying to buck Oghren off, he was bashing it with his axe. He laughed heartily, crying out, “ _Yeee haaaaw_!” After a few more moments, he succeeded in piercing the bronto’s thick hide, burying his axe in its head. As it fell to the ground, Oghren rolled clear of it and pulled his axe free with a satisfied grunt. 

He turned to see them all staring incredulously at him. “What? Never seen a dwarf ride a bronto before?” he said, grinning like an idiot.

“No, not really a common sight of Thedas.” Alistair laughed with him. 

“Ah, come back to Orzammar sometime. When we’re not squabbling over whose going to be king, it’s all the rage,” Oghren chuckled, settling his great axe on his back and fell back into line.

“Really?” Alistair asked, not knowing if the dwarf was serious. Oghren only winked.

They continued to search the rooms in the area, but with no luck, so they moved back to where the stairs were, and went to go through the door on the opposite side. But before they could even reach the section, Aedan saw more cultists down the bottom of the stairs. This place was crawling with these crazies. They tried to make a sneak attack but were too late. Or too loud, all that plate the wardens, Oghren and Sten wore made too much noise and the clanking echoed off the empty halls like a stampede of brontos. One of the cultists spotted Aedan and shouted to the others, so the warden charged toward him and slammed him backwards, into the fire. While he screamed, the others fought the remaining cultists.

When all were dead, the party searched the bodies, finding a key on one of corpses. Then Alistair remembered the locked door they had passed earlier. He told the others to wait while he investigated. Inside was a chest, and when he opened it, all he found was another key. Great, a locked door that holds a key to another locked door. _What’s next, a chest within a chest_? he mused. 

Turning back to show his find to the rest of the group, the warden walked up the stairs to the door on the right. He found nothing of any use in any of those rooms either. That left one last door, so Alistair tried the key in it.

On the other side, there were more cultists and a mage. Aedan and Alistair readied their weapons and before they could attack, a cloud of ash appeared like a sandstorm around them, twisting and howling. As the storm subsided, it gave form to a new creature. It was unlike any other – almost like a grey wraith, twice the size of Sten and with a gaping hole in the middle with razor sharp teeth. It howled at them and swiped furiously. 

Once Aedan got over the shock of this new beast he tried swinging his sword, but it had no effect. “ _Shit_!” he cursed. “Why am I not surprised we’d encounter some sort of supernatural shit storm at some point?”

“Because we’re a magnet for trouble?” Alistair offered good humouredly as he tried and failed to slice through the wraith.

“Maker’s balls!” Tanner exclaimed, as the wraith screamed again, and the rogue realised it had two sets of teeth. He fired off a volley of shots, trying to shut it up when one of his bolts pierced the middle section. Tanner realised that when the mouth was open, the wraith was vulnerable. “Gotcha now, you screaming bastard!” He said, lining up another shot. He scrambled out of the way of the incoming cultists and waited for the beast to wail again. He fought the urge to cover his ears and just as the wraith opened up wide, Tanner let loose another flurry and upon impact, exploded inside the wraith’s mouth, blowing it apart. 

The wardens made short work of the reaming cultists and they took a moment to breathe. They looked around and saw that in the centre of the room, was another giant fireplace. Aedan remembered an iron rod in one of the earlier rooms and asked Zevran to retrieve it. He nodded and took off, returning moments later with the lit torch. 

When he threw it onto the fireplace, the door behind them unlocked. In the next room, there were more cultists, but the crafty rogue also noticed something he could use to his advantage. Ballistae - giant crossbows similar to what was mounted on the walls of some castles. Zevran pointed them out to the wardens, who nodded. While the others prepared to fight, Zevran and Alistair moved to a ballista each. Alistair at one of the cultists and fired. The giant arrow hit him with so much force that it impaled him in the wall. Zevran fired his seconds later, taking the head off the cultist he had aimed for. Sten and Oghren had killed everything else. 

Moving into the next room, another wraith appeared, but with two archers, it stood no chance now that they knew its weakness. When it died, more cultists appeared. It went on like this for the next few rooms, then they came across another staircase, leading to a single door. Instead of entering another hall or room, Aedan led them through a tunnel. Not unlike the tunnels in the Deep Roads, the only difference was that there was a cool breeze flowing through these tunnels. They fought more cultists and - to the wardens unease - a few dragonlings in the tunnels. Aedan did not want to meet the mother dragon, nor did he wish to meet any other dragons. Darkspawn were bad enough. 

The next cavern was slightly larger than the last, but filled with just as many, if not more dragons and cultists. A bit further in, they found cages, and further into the area, drakes. Aedan and Alistair looked at each other weakly, where there were drakes there would be a matriarch. Fuck.

The two drakes were three times the size of a dragonling, and possessed three times the strength. The one on the right screeched and lunged at Aedan, and even though he threw his shield up, the drake came crashing down on him anyway, biting and clawing at the steel. He started to panic a little when one of the claws actually penetrated the steel. Oghren saw that the warden was in trouble and let loose a roar and charged at the drake.

The dwarf slashed at the drake’s hide, barely making a dent, but it was enough to stop the drake’s assault on the shield. The beast whirled around wildly, searching for its assailant. As soon as it saw Oghren, the drake roared and scales met steel once more. The drake ripped the great axe out of Oghren’s hands and cast it across the room, and lunged at the berserker, pinning him to the floor with its entire weight. Leliana had followed Oghren and provided long ranged cover, trying to pierce the scaly armour and free the berserker. She cursed aloud when she realised she wasn’t getting anywhere. Dropping her bow and unhooking her daggers, the bard made a dash for the beast and back flipped onto its side and scrambled up the neck, grabbing the great snapping jaws in an attempt to distract the drake long enough for more help to arrive.

Meanwhile, the second drake eyed the mages with zeal. It charged them, busting through the shield of ice Wynne erected. The older mage screamed in panic and tried to gather her wits to try raising the shield again. She was unsuccessful and the drake took a swipe at her and the woman went sailing across the room, landing in a heap beside the cages. She did not move. “ _Wynne_!” Aleta cried and tried to make a run for her. The movement caught the drake’s attention and it breathed fire, blocking her path to the healer. Aleta stopped abruptly, almost too late, as the inferno swept in front of her. She turned to face the great beast and summoned rock to hurl at it. The magic barely made a dent, the scaly armour protecting the beast was very strong. Trying not to be disheartened, Aleta tried again, but this only bounced off as well. Her eyes widened as the beast roared again and breathed fire directly at her.

“Back you beast!” Morrigan yelled, slamming the base of her staff to the ground and sending crackling shock waves forward, knocking the drake off balance for a short time. She ran to Aleta’s side and grabbed her hand, yanking her forward. “Run!”

Aleta glanced at Wynne’s still form just meters from them and stopped. “No! We must save her!”

Morrigan’s eyes followed Aleta’s gaze and shook her head. “If we stop, we will die. Come!” She yanked on the other mage’s hand again but Aleta stubbornly refused to leave Wynne. Morrigan glared at the woman. “ _Fool_! Do not waste your life!”

While the two argued, the drake had risen to its feet. It was pissed. It reared up on its back legs and breathed more fire at them. Morrigan released Aleta and the two mages jumped out of the way in opposite directions. The drake charged the nearest mage – Morrigan – in a furious stampede. But the clever witch transformed into a crow and flew off before the drake could catch her. Denied of its prey, the drake whirled around and found Aleta, who had managed to reach Wynne. It was about to charge at them when it cried out in pain.

Tanner and Zevran had managed to find a weak spot on the drake – its under belly – and were slicing and hacking away. The drake breathed fire down on them but the rogues were much to quick to be caught. They dispersed and came back in again to slice at it more and before long the mighty drake had fallen to the floor, unable to stand. Zevran made quick work of cutting its head off and they headed for Aleta and Wynne.

Alistair, Sten and Jovey were trying to assist Leliana in freeing Oghren, though their weapons were not proving very effective against the drake’s hide. Aedan, who had finally recovered from his attack, threw away his shield which now had two giant tears in it, and charged at the drake. With the combined strength of them all, the drake was overwhelmed and outmatched, though it fought to the death. Blood splattered over Aedan’s face as he cut off the drakes head, and he and Sten shoved the beast to the side, freeing Oghren. He coughed and spluttered. “I had it all under control!”

“Yeah, _sure_ you did, dwarf!” Tanner exclaimed, leading the second group back to the wardens. Oghren only mumbled something that sounded like sarcastic thanks.

Aedan led the group down another tunnel filled with more cultists. Shortly after, he noticed another tunnel leading off to the left. The warden chose to keep going down the tunnel they were in. More cultists came at them, weapons raised, and a mage up to the left, standing at the top of a flight of stairs. Except this one carried a sword. While the others fought of the cultists, Aedan went after the mage.

This one did not worry about casting spells, instead attacking with the sword, swinging wildly. Cousland parried each blow, and even though the mage’s attacks appeared untrained, he certainly had skill with a blade. But not enough, Aedan could see he was tiring. His attacks were getting sloppy, slow. Soon it was only a matter of time before he slipped up completely. And he did, raising his sword too high, leaving his chest exposed. Out of respect for his skill, the warden made his death quick, pushing the sword straight into his heart. After the warden had lowered him to the ground, he picked up the sword the mage carried, studying it closely. This could be of use to one of the mages.

By the time he’d turned around, the rest were dead or dying. Aedan thought about whom to give the blade to, although he had only two choices. He couldn’t quite imagine Wynne wielding a blade, so that only left two choices. Aedan was going to give it to her now, but then thought he should clean it up, get rid of all the blood and sharpen it a bit. They backtracked to where the tunnel split, and took the other tunnel.

After a while, they entered another room of the temple. What appeared to be a door way, was actually a hole in the wall. Probably made by one of the drakes. The party hadn’t gone much further, when Leliana stopped them. Aedan watched her, confused, when she pointed to the floors, walls and ceiling. As the warden followed her finger to each spot, he saw some very elaborate traps. Then he had an idea, they could use them to their advantage. 

Aedan turned to the others. “Okay, this is what we’re going to do. Leliana, I want you to disarm all but one trap. The rest of you, position yourselves there and there,” he said pointing to the walls beside the doors that were on opposite side of the room. They nodded and moved into position. 

Alistair, Sten, Tanner and Aleta with Aedan. Oghren, Wynne, Zevran and Morrigan on the other side. When Leliana was finished, she and Jovey stood in the centre and tripped the final trap. When the blades came down, they both leapt back, Leliana tripping over some of the rubble behind her.

That was when the cultists entered the room from both doors. Jovey, not skipping a beat, charged the first of them, attacking to defend Leliana. For the first time ever, they all followed his lead. Jovey had the first of them pinned to the ground, his jaws tight around the cultist’s throat. After dealing with the other cultists, Aedan had to literally tear the mabari off the cultist. As Jovey came away, a piece of the cultist’s throat came with him. The cultist lay there, a look of disbelief on his face as he choked on his own blood. 

After looking around further and finding nothing, the party ventured back the way they came, this time following the path they were originally on. They soon entered another very large cavern, where three men were waiting.

“Stop! You will go no further,” one of them said. He appeared to be the leader of the three.

“Oh, really? What makes you think that?” Aedan taunted.

The leader, who was wielding a large maul, said with a sneer, “You have defiled our temple. You have spilled the blood of the faithful, and slaughtered our young. No more. You will tell me now, intruder, why you have done all this. Why are you come here?” 

Aedan looked at him, and his companions dressed in robes. Mages most likely. They were angry, that much was obvious, and likely going to attack not matter what the warden might say. His reply was careful. “We are here for the Urn of Sacred Ashes. We need them to save a man’s life.”

The leader eyed him up and down, the twitch in the corner of his eyes the only thing giving his surprise away. “You did all this for a relic? Know this, stranger… the prophet Andraste has overcome death itself and returned to Her faithful in a form more radiant than you can imagine!” The leader stroked his chin and began to pace on the spot. “Not even the Tevinter Imperium could hope to kill Her now. What hope do you have?”

“Um, you do realise that Andraste is dead, don’t you? She has been that way for quite some time,” Alistair said snidely.

The leader stared at him, hatred in his eyes. “You know _nothing_! Andraste has revealed Herself to us. We are Her Chosen! To arms, my brethren! Andraste will grant us victory!” he said, slamming his fist into Alistair’s face. The warden returned the gesture by driving his knee into his groin, causing him to double over in pain. As Alistair turned his attention to the other two, he noticed more of the cultists coming towards them. Aedan and Jovey stood by Alistair’s side as the others moved to attack the reinforcements. 

Sten charged the first group, knocking them all to the floor. Tanner and Leliana were already fast at work, using their bow and crossbow to pick the cultists off one by one. Aleta and Wynne stood back and cast their usual spells, while Morrigan transformed into a giant spider, leaping from wall to wall, obliterating any cultist stupid enough to get in her way. Zevran stood close by making a mess of any cultist that managed to get past Morrigan.

The leader, having recovered from his groin injury, tried charging Alistair again, maul raised high. Aedan ran towards him, darting to the side just before the leader reached him. The leader saw what Aedan was trying to accomplish, so he stepped to the side, avoiding Aedan completely. He continued to charge towards Alistair. With a cry of rage, he brought his maul down, but the warden was ready, deflecting his maul with his shield. As the head of the maul smashed into the ground beside him, Alistair lashed out with his sword, slicing across his chest. 

The leader reeled back, blood running down the front of his armour. He looked down as his hands, covered in blood. He roared in rage and came at Alistair again. The warden ducked this attack, slicing at the leader’s legs. He saw this and stepped left. What he didn’t see, was Aedan behind him. He looked down in shock, as Aedan’s sword exited the leader’s chest. Aedan withdrew his sword, letting the leader slump to the ground. Alistair turned to see the others kill the last few cultists and after checking the party for injuries he led them to the tunnel on the far side, which led them to the mountain top.

As they exited the tunnel, the party saw a massive dragon fly overhead, and gasped. The matriarch landed on one of the far mountains and stretched out, preparing to nap. Aedan looked to the others, noting the looks of concern. With a nod to each of them, they moved down into the open plain below. It wasn’t until Oghren stumbled into the gong, that anyone noticed it was there. That was when the dragon awoke, letting out a roar of anger. Flying from its resting place, it landed a few meters away. 

Everyone backed up quickly, none of them had ever seen a matriarch dragon before, let alone fought one, and they were feeling quite tense, except Sten, who seemed excited. However, the matriarch was closing in on them and they couldn’t afford to stand there gawking.

Leliana, Zevran and Tanner were the first to recover and dispersed. Leliana and Tanner sought higher ground to line up strategic shots, while Zevran tried to circle around behind the dragon. Sten followed suit, despite Aleta’s cries. Aedan and Alistair exchanged ‘what the hell’ looks and ran after Sten and Zevran. Oghren punched the air enthusiastically shouting, “It’s a good day to die!” and charged in after the wardens with Jovey bringing up the rear. 

As Sten got closer, he leapt into the air, driving Asala into the dragon’s side, the previous battle with the drakes granting them invaluable experience against this monstrous beast. The dragon roared in pain as he slid down its side, Asala slicing through skin and scales as he went. That was when the dragon kicked its hind legs back, knocking Zevran across the plain. The blond rogue didn’t move once he’d landed. Leliana gasped as she saw her friend strewn across the field and turned her attention back to the dragon, determined to not get distracted, and climbed to the top of a column, trying to get a better shot at the dragon’s eyes. 

The dragon lashed out with its tail, smashing through the column, and sending the red-head crashing to the ground. Tanner, who had been close-by, thought she was dead, until he saw her land well behind the falling column. He breathed a sigh of relief, only to see a massive foot headed towards him. The rogue ducked and back-flipped out of reach, and scrambled across the field, firing off shots as he ran. Aedan saw that the dragon was gaining ground and tried to intervene, bringing his sword up and slicing through the soft underneath. The sword pierced deeply, opening a gaping hole in the dragon’s foot. Alistair joined them and slammed his sword into the dragon’s front leg, Oghren swung wildly at the tail as the dragon lashed out with it again. 

Though Oghren was short, he was not short enough. The dragon’s tail caught him in the back, one of the smaller spikes piercing his armour. Although badly wounded, Oghren dragged himself clear of the dragon, trying his best to stem the flow of blood. Aleta and Wynne were trying to make their way to the wounded, but the dragon blocked their path every time with a blazing inferno. 

By now, Morrigan had transformed into a giant wasp, trying to sting the dragon’s face. The dragon reared its head back, and fired a massive fireball towards her. She was not fast enough to get out of the way, and the fireball scorched her left side. As she hit the ground, her form changed back into herself. Leliana, who now had time to recover, noticed Morrigan’s left arm was severely burned, blood and other fluids flowed from the burnt areas. The swamp witch did her best to stand before succumbing to the pain, falling unconscious to the ground. 

Surprisingly, Aleta was by Morrigan’s side in an instant, dragging her to safety. The dragon saw this, and loomed over the two of them, poised to strike, when Sten and Alistair stood and charged together at the dragon, trying to draw its attention back to the melee group. It worked, the dragon swept a massive foot at the warden, hitting his shield and knocking him clear. As the foot hit his shield, Alistair heard and felt the bones in his left arm break. 

_I am not going to fucking die here_! Alistair thought as he struggled to get to his feet, pulling his broken arm from the shield. Wynne was casting spells that looked like giant snowballs. They appeared to be having some effect on the dragon, as it turned towards her. Aedan and Sten took the distraction and used it, slicing into each of the dragon’s feet. 

Leliana raced across the plain to Alistair’s side, helping him to his feet. The dragon struggled, trying to stand and also trying to fend of the attacks from Sten and Aedan. Jovey had retreated to where Oghren lay, trying to keep him awake. That dog is definitely no ordinary war hound, Aedan found himself thinking. The dragon finally succumbed to its wounds, falling to the ground with a thunderous crash. The dragon continued to try and rise, Sten and Aedan turned to see Alistair slowly walking over to the dragon, Leliana walking cautiously beside him. 

The junior warden stood beside the dragon’s head, its big eyes following his every movement. Alistair actually respected the dragon, and also felt guilty about having injured it so. Not wanting to see its eyes follow him any more, the warden plunged his sword into its eye, just as Sten thrust Asala into the dragon’s chest, piercing its heart. Aedan and Leliana stood by him luckily, for the warden soon collapsed to the ground, utterly exhausted. 

Aleta and Wynne rushed over to him, starting to heal him up. “No. No, heal the others first. I can wait.”

They smiled softly at his noble tendency and shook their heads. “Be still, and silent, young man. Let us do our work,” Wynne said, sounding like she was scolding a small child.

“I can heal him, Wynne. Zevran and Oghren will need magical attention quickly,” Aleta said, turning to her, smiling a little. 

Wynne looked down at the young woman, looking into her eyes for a few seconds before smiling proudly. “Yes, they will.”

As Wynne moved to Oghren, Aleta glanced at Alistair as she healed his arm. The blonde warden started to thank her, but she shushed him gently and all he could do was grin stupidly. He was too happy to notice Sten glaring at him even. The pain slowly ceased, and his arm soon regained feeling. Alistair got to his feet and Aleta moved on, healing Morrigan. Leliana was kneeling beside Zevran, it seemed he had regained consciousness, though he was in extreme pain. When Morrigan awoke, she regarded Aleta with surprise, Aleta nodded. 

Just then Wynne called out to her. “Aleta, I need your help with Zevran! Quickly!” Morrigan motioned for Aleta to join Wynne. Oghren was up on his feet, walking slowly over to where they stood. 

He poked a finger in to hole of his armour, cursing the dragon. “Son of nug-humping bastard! That dragon nearly killed me. If it wasn’t for that hound of yours, I probably would be,” he growled. After some time, Wynne, Aleta and Zevran got to their feet. Even after all that, Zevran still tried to flirt with Aleta. “You have the healing hands of Andraste herself, my dear.” He caressed the digits in question gently and planted a kiss on her knuckles and before she could remove them, Sten came to stand by her, arms crossed towering over the sprawled out Antivan, brows drawn heavily together. Zevran chuckled knowingly and released her. 

When they were all ready, Aedan spied a sheild in the dragon’s hoard and attached it to his back as well as grabbing a share of the loot. Tanner, Alistair, Morrigan and Oghren all took a share as well before they moved past the dead dragon, making their way to the other side of the plain. Once inside, they walked up a few flights of stairs. At the top stood a man dressed in full armour. The knight loomed over them.

As the party neared the knight, he spoke. “I bid you welcome, pilgrims.” He seeming genuinely friendly.

“We are here for the Urn of Sacred Ashes,” Aedan replied, watching him carefully.

“You have come to honour Andraste. And so you shall, if you prove yourself worthy,” the man said with a smile.

“I have no time to prove myself, I need the ashes to heal the Arl of Redcliffe,” Aedan replied in a rush.

The knight looked him over thoughtfully. “Still, you must prove yourself worthy. It is not my place to decide worth, the Gauntlet does this. If you are deemed worthy, the Urn will be revealed. You may take a small pinch of the Ashes with you. But if you are not…” he trailed off in a suggestive tone.

“Alright, let’s get this Gauntlet over with,” Aedan sighed, hopefully this would be their last hurdle and they could be done with this damned nonsense.

The knight held up his hand, stopping him. “Before you go, there is something I must ask. I see that the path that led you here was not easy. There is suffering in your past. Your suffering, and the suffering of others.”

Aedan felt a lump in his throat as he thought of his family. “Your sister-in-law, nephew, mother and father. They were held dear to your heart and you failed to protect them from Arl Howe. Do you feel that you failed them?” the knight asked him.

The others looked at him, stunned, except Alistair who already knew. Tanner however, looked deeply conflicted, and Aedan couldn’t fathom why. Well now they all knew his deep dark secret, would they think differently of him now? He didn’t give a damn. “Yes, I do. If I had gotten to them sooner, perhaps I may have saved them. But what’s done is done, they are dead, though I will have my vengeance.”

The knight nodded. “Thank you, that is all I wished to know.”

Morrigan sighed. “Is there any religion that does not thrive on the guilt like a glutton at his lunch? No? I thought not.” Aedan firmly agreed with her.

Leliana stepped up beside him, putting a hand on the warden’s shoulder. “You could not have known what would happen. You did the best you could.”

“And what of those that follow you?” the knight asked. He turned to Leliana. “You. Why do you say the Maker speaks to you, when all know that the Maker has left. He spoke only to Andraste. Do you believe yourself Her equal?”

“I never said that. I…” she started to reply, flushing with embarrassment.

“In Orlais, you were someone. In Lothering, you feared you would lose yourself, become a drab sister and disappear. When your brothers and sisters criticised you for what you professed, you were hurt. But you also revelled in it. It made you special. You enjoyed the attention, even if it was negative,” the knight said.

“You’re saying that I made it up? For the attention? I did not! I know what I believe!” Leliana said angrily.

Aedan didn’t know whether the knight was satisfied with her answer or not, but he turned his attention to Alistair next.

“Alistair, warden and knight. You wonder if things would have been different if you were with Duncan on the battlefield. You could’ve shielded him from the killing flow. You wonder, don’t you, if you should have died, and not him?”

“I… yes. If Duncan had been saved, and not me, everything would be better. If I’d just had the chance, maybe…” Wynne cut him off. Trying to save him the pain.

“Ask your question Guardian, I am ready,” she said.

“You are ever the advisor, ready with words of wisdom. Do you wonder if you spout only platitudes, burned into your mind by a distant past? Perhaps you are merely a tool, used to spread the word of the Circle and Chantry. Does doubt ever chip away at your truths?” the Guardian asked her.

Wynne didn’t even blink. “You frame the statement into a question, yet you already know our answers. There is no sense in hiding, is there? Yes, I do doubt sometimes. Only the fool is certain of himself.”

The Guardian turned to Zevran. “And the Antivan elf.”

“Oh, is it my turn now? Hoorah, I am so excited,” Zevran said dryly.

“Many have died at your hand. But is there any you regret more, than a woman by the name of…”

“How do you know about that?!” Zevran demanded, interrupting the Guardian.

“I know much. It is allowed to me. The question stands, however. Do you regret…”

Zevran crossed his arms, interrupting the Guardian again. “Yes, the answer is yes. If that’s what you wish to know, I do, now move on.”

Sten stepped forward. “Demand whatever answers you want, spirit” he said.

“You came to this land as an observer, but you killed a family in a blind rage. Have you failed your people, for allowing the Qunari to be seen in that light?” he asked Sten.

“I have never denied that I failed,” was Sten’s hollow reply. 

Then the Guardian turned his attention to Tanner. “Your heart weighs heavily with the guilt of your wife and son’s death. You allowed blood magic to destroy what you held dear. Did you do enough?”

Tanner hung his head, shamefaced. “What can I say? Of course I feel like I didn’t do enough, their dying cries haunt my waking moments. If your intent is to make me feel like shit, you need not bother, my conscience does a good enough job without your interference.”

Satisfied the knight turned to Aleta. “You Aleta. A human reared by elves, with no family to speak of. Abandoned by your parents, unwanted by the Dalish, you wonder where you belong. Maybe nowhere. Do you feel lost, incomplete?”

Tears stung at the back of her eyes, but the mage refused to let them fall. “Yes.” was her only response.

The guardian now looked at Morrigan expectantly. “And you, Morrigan. Flemeth’s daughter. What…”

“Begone spirit. I will not play your games,” she said, dismissing him, with a wave of her hand.

“Ah, the dwarf,” the guardian said, focusing on Oghren. “You left your home and came to the surface, knowing that…”

“Why don’t I save you some time? Yes, I wish I could’ve saved my family from Branka. I wish I’d been a better mate, maybe she’d have stayed home with a belly full of baby Oghren’s and never gone after the Anvil. Maybe I failed her,” he growled. “And yes, I came to the surface because I’m barely a dwarf any more. My family is dead, my honour as a warrior long gone. I’ve lost my caste and my house and I have nothing else to lose.” Oghren finished. 

The Guardian stared at him for a second, before continuing. “The way is open. Good luck, and may you find what you seek.” 

The next room held eight spirits, and Aedan assumed each one had a question of some kind, these were obvious trials of faith. He approached the spirit on his right.

“The smallest lark can carry it, while a strong man may not. Of what do I speak?”

“A tune!” Aleta answered. Aleta looked at her, one eyebrow raised. She smiled and shrugged.

“Yes. I was Andraste’s dearest friend in childhood, and we always would sing. She would celebrate the beauty of life, and all who heard Her would be filled with joy. They say the Maker Himself was moved by Andraste’s song. And then She sang no more of simple things.” Then the spirit faded away. They moved to the nest spirit.

“An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, the debt of blood must be paid in full. Off what do I speak?” The warden already knew the answer, he felt it every time he thought of Howe’s treachery.

“Vengeance,” he replied darkly.

“Yes. My husband, Hessarian, would have chosen a quick death for Andraste. I made him swear that She would die publicly, with Her war leaders, that all would know the Imperium’s strength. I am justice, I am vengeance. Blood can only be repaid with blood.” Then she too, faded away.

“The bones of the world, stretch towards the sky’s embrace. Veiled in white, like a bride, greeting her groom. Of what do I speak?” the next one asked.

“Mountains,” Leliana answered.

“Yes. I carried Andraste’s Ashes out of Tevinter, into the mountains to the east where She could gaze ever into Her Maker’s sky. No more fitting tomb than this, could we find.”

“No man has seen, but all men know it. Lighter than air, sharper then any sword. Comes from nothing, but will fell even the strongest armies. Of what do I speak?” the next spirit asked.

“Hunger,” Oghren growled.

“Yes. Hunger was the weapon used against the wicked men of the Tevinter Imperium. The Maker kindled the sun’s flame, scorching the land. Their crops failed, and their armies could not march. Then He opened the heavens and bade the waters flow, and washed away their filth. I am Cathaire, and disciple of Andraste and commander of her armies. I saw these things done, and knew the Maker smiled on us.”

The party crossed the room to speak to the four remaining spirits. “Echoes from the realm of shadows, a whisper of things to come. Thought’s strange sister dwells in the night, is swept away by dawning light. Of what do I speak?”

“A dream,” Wynne replied.

“A dream came upon me, as my daughter slumbered beneath my heart. It told of her life, and of her betrayal and death. I am sorrow and regret. I am a mother weeping bitter tears for a daughter she could not save.”

The next spirit looked elven. “That’s Thane Shartan!” Aleta whispered. Both wardens turned to look at her. “He was able to convince the elves to follow Andraste,” she explained, eyes alight with wonder.

“I’d neither be a guest, nor trespasser be, in this place I belong, that belongs also to me. Of what do I speak?” Shartan asked.

“Home,” Sten said.

“It was my dream for the people to have a home of their own, where we would have no masters but ourselves. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Thus, we followed Andraste against the Imperium. But she was betrayed, and so were we.” Then he vanished.

“A poison to the soul, passion’s cruel counterpart. From love she grows, til love lies slain. Of what do I speak?”

“Jealousy,” Zevran answered, a hint of sorrow in his voice.

“Yes. Jealousy drove me to betrayal. I was the greatest general of the Alamarri, but beside Her I was nothing. Hundreds fell before Her on bended knee. They loved Her, as did the Maker. I loved Her too, but what man can compare with a god?”

Last one. “She wields the broken blade, and separates true kings from tyrants. Of what do I speak?”

“Mercy,” Alistair answered. 

“Yes. I could not bear to see Andraste’s suffering, and bade me to end Her life. I am the penitent sinner, who shows compassion as he hopes will be shown to him.” Then he vanished, and the door opened. But Aedan was not prepared for what was on the other side. There stood his fallen family.

“Hello, pup.” Bryce Cousland smiled at his son. Aedan said nothing. If this was a trick, it was too cruel for words. 

Eleanor stood by her husband, and with a gentle expressions she said to Aedan, “We are gone, darling, there is nothing in this world that can alter that, but you must for give yourself, you did everything you could.”

Aedan stared at her, wishing with everything he had that he could turn back the clock to that precise moment and erase it all. The vision of Bryce stepped forward. “You must go on, and live you life, pup. Take vengeance.”

“I will, Father. I will,” \was all Aedan could say before his voice cracked and a trickling of tears escaped his eyes.

Eleanor stretched out her hand and a small pendant with the Cousland family crest rested in the palm. “Before we depart from this world, we have something for you. Take this, with our blessing. Should you ever need guidance, hold this amulet and think of us, we’ll always be together in our hearts. We love you darling.” 

For a long time Aedan stood there, holding the crest in his hands and thought. How he wished things had been different, why did everyone he loved have to die? Aedan was lost in these morbid thought for a long time and he barely felt the hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright, warden?” Oghren asked, his usual growl sounding much softer. Aedan nodded as he stood up and turned around. He saw tears running down Leliana and Aleta’s faces, Wynne seemed to be trying to hold hers back. Morrigan gazed at him with a rare tender expression and Sten was expressionless as usual.

“If you’d like to talk, I’m here, brother.” Alistair said, putting his hand on Aedan’s shoulder. Cousland looked at him with a small smile. That was the first time Alistair had called him brother. He nodded, still unable to find the words he wanted to say. Instead, the warden turned around and walked further into the next room.

Standing in front of the door on the other side, were mirror images of the party. As they neared the images, they attacked. The group leapt into action, each of them fighting themselves. Even though these were spirits, the party were all able to hit them. Soon, the mirror images faded, and they were able to walk through the door. 

The next room had a massive, gaping hole in the centre, and no obvious way around it. As he walked around the side of the hall, Alistair noticed that a faded piece of a bridge appeared. He moved along all the stones, and realised what must be done. He instructed each of his companions to stand on a separate stone, each of them linked to a piece of the bridge. With most of the stones covered, the pieces of the bridge became more solid, until only one piece remained. Alistair and Aedan both thought the same thing, moving to the last unoccupied stones on either side of the hole. The final piece appeared and instantly became solid, forming a complete bridge. Alistair looked warily at the others, before crossing the bridge first. When he made it safely to the other side, the others quickly followed.

The final room held the ashes, but in front of the stairs leading up to them, was a line of thick fire, and an altar. In the side of the altar was an inscription. Cast off the trappings of worldly life and cloak yourself in goodness of spirit. King and slave, lord and beggar, be born anew in the Maker’s sight.

Aedan repeated the inscription aloud a few times, trying to figure out what it meant, and then it hit him. It was a test of faith, like Andraste was tested. As he took off his battered armour and placed it on the altar, the others looked at him, confused. The warden stepped up to the fire, standing there for a moment, before stepping into it. Aedan heard them all cry out his name, yelling for him to stop, but he kept going. There was no heat from the fire, and when Aedan made it to the other side, the fire surrounding him vanished. He walked back to the altar and put all his armour back on, noticing the looks of disbelief and shock on the faces of his companions. 

Then the Guardian appeared from behind them. “You have been through the trials of the Gauntlet. You have walked the path of Andraste, and like Her, you have been cleansed. You have proven yourself worthy, pilgrim. Approach the Ashes.” Then he vanished.

One by one, everyone removed their armour and walked across the blazing flames unscathed. They re-dressed and slowly approached the Urn. Leliana could not contain her excitement. “I never dreamed I would ever lay my eyes on the Urn of Sacred Ashes! I.. I have no words to express..” she said, trailing off mid-sentence.

Morrigan scoffed. “I stand in awe. Really,” she said, rolling her eyes. The warden didn’t bother looking at either of them as he took a pinch of the ashes, putting them into a small pouch. Then he turned and walked back down the steps, indicating for the others to follow. Their trip back to Brother Genitivi was uneventful.

“Welcome back! You were gone for some time. Well? Did you find it?” he asked. Aedan smiled wearily and showed him the ashes. “Is that? Oh, there’s some dust on.. no, that’s not dust. Oh, Maker. I am not worthy to look upon…” he tried to say. When he regained his composure, he continued. “What was it like? Coming to the Urn I mean?”

“There were tests. We had to go through a gauntlet,” Aedan replied, beyond tired.

“Tests? Interesting. Very interesting. Perhaps my research will not seem so much like blasphemy to the Chantry. We must organise an expedition. There is so much history here. It must be studied. And pilgrims must be allowed to come and see the Urn.” The Chantry brother was talking to himself quietly but excitedly, wincing every now and then from his aches and pains suffered at the hands of the cultists.

“If you say so. But I strongly disagree. The Urn should be left as it is. I would not want the ashes of someone I love being disturbed by everyone.” Aedan tried to dissuade him, but his words fell on deaf ears, Genitivi had already made his decision.

“I must return home! I have much to do. If you ever find yourself in Denerim, please visit me. I am not a rich man, but I have a small collection of… interesting artefacts, and I do owe you a reward for rescuing me. I hope to see you soon, my friend.” Then he turned and walked away, while the group made their way back to Redcliffe, not a single one of them wanting to do anything else but bathe.


	19. Insight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With a portion of Andraste's ashes, the party is headed directly for Redcliffe. Will they make it in time? This chapter contains smut, you were warned. All cannon belongs to Bioware. Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Eighteen: Insight

They made camp at the foot of the Frostback Mountains with extraordinary speed. Each one was eager to rest and eat by the fire then relax in the nearby hot water springs. Afterwards, Aedan stretched out in his tent feeling the stress and tension of the day finally calm and ebb away. He’d just settled onto his bedroll when he heard the flap of his tent door shift. The warden looked up to see Morrigan standing there, in only her furs sliding down her right shoulder, her dark hair free of its signature messy bun. She was undeniably beautiful, arrogant and downright rude at times, but to Aedan, that only emphasised her appeal. The witch smiled as she saw her warden staring up at her in obvious appreciation, and if the bulge in his smalls was anything to go by, desire too. “’Tis only I, warden. I mean you no harm.”

Aedan began to sit up and greet her but Morrigan smiled wider and shook her head. “Do not rise, my dashing warden.” Aedan smiled then too, relaxing back on his elbows and watched as she sauntered forward, dropping the furs lower with each movement before it fell to the floor of the tent, forgotten.

“And why would you be visiting me here in my tent at this hour, Morrigan?” Aedan replied huskily, unable to tear his eyes from her creamy white breasts swaying as she moved, the pink nipples hardening not from the cold of the mountain, but with obvious arousal.

“My, my, so _suspicious_!” She teased, as she lowered herself on top of him, straddling the length his now rock hard cock as it rested uncomfortably against his abdomen. She glided gently back and forth along it, shuddering with pleasure and leaned down to nibble at his earlobe seductively, her breasts brushing against his chest, the hairs tickling her nipples erotically. She moaned with pleasure, whispering in his ear, “'Have you not dreamed of me also, warden? Have you not lain awake at night, taken yourself in hand and wondered what it would feel like,” she reached down to where his member lay throbbing and squeezed gently, pumping it a few times. “To have me here in your tent, fulfilling your wildest desires?” She breathed against his ear and purred, “ _I have_.”

Aedan’s response was a throaty moan as he slapped her ass with one hand, groping it roughly, while the other snaked around her shoulders then up to cradle the base of her neck and crashed his lips against hers. He darted his tongue into her mouth, duelling hers feverishly and grunted as she chuckled against his teeth, nibbling at his bottom lip. “I see.”

Aedan grunted again as she pumped harder, and released his mouth to trail kisses down his face, neck and chest until she reached his abdomen. His hands reached for her hair, curling them in her dark tresses, groaning in ecstasy as he felt her lips mould his shaft, taking him deep into her mouth, and her hand that was pumping his cock quicken. “ _Ughnnn..._ ”

He gripped her head tighter, pushing it down to encourage her to go deeper. The witch of the wilds complied, bobbing her head up and down with unabashed enthusiasm, growing wetter at the thought of making the great warden Cousland grow weak with need. Using her free hand, Morrigan reached down between her legs and started to flick her bud, moaning as she pleasured both him and herself. Hearing the wet squelching noises she made as she took every inch of him and feeling the firm pressure she applied, Aedan acknowledged the familiar tightening in his abdomen. She was doing an amazing job of this, so amazing in fact that if he didn’t stop her now it might be too late. Just as she was approaching the crest of her first climax, Aedan pulled her off roughly, saying throatily, “Enough!”

She stared up at him, stunned for a moment, then laughed as she wiped her chin with the back of her hand, tasting the pre-cum, eyes aflame with lust. “So soon?”

Aedan wanted to wipe that smug smirk right off her gorgeous face. He grabbed her forearms and flipped her onto her back, ignoring her protests to the contrary. She was no longer in control and he would see it stayed that way. He looked down at her body now sprawled on his bedroll in all its glory, and his cock twitched painfully, displeased at the interruption. 

Aedan grabbed her thighs and dragged her mercilessly down, throwing one leg over his shoulder as he bent down to inspect her opening. The moisture that had begun to gather from her earlier ministrations glistened in the pale moonlight that reached inside the tent and Aedan smiled slyly. He lowered his head and licked the top of her inner thigh right down to her clit, smiling against the pink flesh there as he felt her body shudder and heard her murmur with approval. 

The warden traced lazy circles around the sensitive bud with his tongue, testing her arousal before lapping at it in earnest, and with two spread fingers, massaged around the outside of her walls. Morrigan moaned louder now, and started to slowly grind at his mouth. “More... I want more...” she panted, gripping the bedroll sheets tightly. When he picked up the pace at her core, delving his tongue deep within her, she began to writhe on the spot. 

She was so wet, the juices flowing freely from her now and without warning, Aedan removed his tongue and slipped a finger all the way inside her, then two, uninterrupting the wild, feverish pace. She moaned his name over and over in exquisite ecstasy as she came, bucking her hips frantically and the warden worked her faster, assisting her orgasm, and the next as she convulsed in delirious bliss.

“Enjoyed that, did you?” Aedan smirked as he watched her eyes roll in the back of her head, slowly coming down from her high.

When she regained herself, Morrigan eyed his erection with hunger, cheeks flushed with pleasure. “Very much, warden. Now let us do something about the strain we’ve put on that magnificent cock hmm?”

While she was still splayed out on the bedroll, Aedan spread her legs apart further, watching the minx run her tongue along her bottom lip in anticipation. With one hand he gripped his throbbing cock, guiding it to her entrance, while the other cupped her supple left breast, stroking the tightened nipple with a callous thumb. 

Morrigan raised her hips to greet him and Aedan pushed into her with a deep groan. She was so soft and juicy, and as her walls tightened around him, the warden fought hard to not come right then and there. She gasped when he started to thrust gently into her. Soon his movements became harder, faster and before long he was slamming fiercely into her, squeezing her tit roughly, grunting with exertion. “Louder woman, scream for me.”

Morrigan gasped again as she felt him dig ruthlessly into her flesh and screamed his name, her senses working into overdrive. It was too much and she could feel herself slipping, the air around them crackling with excess magic as she began to unravel beneath him.

“Fuck you feel so good! _Unngh_!” Aedan pumped her faster and realised he wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer. He looked down just in time to see her eyes bulge wide and her mouth make an “O” expression as she came. Her muscles clenched like a vice around him and with one last thrust and groan he came inside her.

After a moment to catch his breath, the warden eased himself out of her, and even though he was coated in musky sex and sweat, he bent down to kiss her. Morrigan returned the kiss before collapsing on his chest. “That was... glorious.” 

Aedan smiled triumphantly, reaching out to draw her in closer to him, draping the fur she worn in over them. “I aim to please.”

“Indeed!” Morrigan chuckled, nestling in beside his warmth. As she drifted off to blissful sleep, Aedan pressed his lips to her temple and whispered, “I love you.” She stiffend, panicked but he held her tight before she could flee. 

After a few minutes she sighed and relaxed, scowling as she felt him smile against her ear. “You are persistent.” The warden smiled, relaxing back and felt sleep claim him. Morrigan never slept in her own tent again.

* * * * *

They were three days out of Redcliffe when the warden decided to camp for the night. Aedan was sitting in front of his tent, cleaning the blood off the sword he had taken from the mage in the cavern at Haven when he saw Morrigan walking over to him. With a smile he put the sword down beside him he stood up to greet her with a dazzling smile. “Morrigan.”

The witch smiled back and kissed him before replacing the smile for a frown. “I have been studying Mother’s grimoire. Do you wish to hear what I’ve found?” From the look on her face, it would not be something pleasant. 

Aedan sat back down and dragged her with him, adjusting their positions so she was sitting between his legs, facing him. “If it has you worried, then absoloutley.”

Morrigan raised an eyebrow at this. Since they had been sleeping together she noticed he had been much more attentive, nothing was too much trouble. He had wanted to know more about her, but respected that she was not into sharing all at once. The thought that she found this endearing, sweet even, disturbed her. These feelings were completely foreign to Morrigan, but she did find them useful at times, like now, when she felt threatened. She was so unaccustomed to relying on people, but Aedan was different somehow. “Tis… not what I expected. I had hoped for a collection, a map of the power that she commands. But this is not it.” 

“So this was not useful?” he asked patiently. 

He was rewarded with another small smile before she continued. “No. there is much of interest within her writings, things I did not know. And one in particular I never suspected. Here, in great detail, Flemeth explains the means by which she has survived for centuries.” Aedan said nothing, just stretched back on his hands and waited for her to explain. 

Morrigan took a deep breath and scowled. “Flemeth has raised many children over her long lifetime. There are stories of these many Witches of the Wilds throughout Chasind legend. Yet I have never seen one and always wondered why. And now I know. They are all Flemeth.”

“What do you mean?” Aedan asked slowly, not liking where this was going.

The distaste on her face was hard to miss. With a bitter laugh she said, “When her body becomes old and wizened, she raises a daughter. And when the time is right, she takes the daughter’s body for her own.”

Aedan stared blankly at her. “Are you sure of this?”

She nodded. “Indeed. That is primarily what this tome details. The various daughters that Flemeth has… acquired. Their preparations and training. I recognise all of it. I… am to be her next host. This is my purpose.”

“Then why did she risk sending you with me?” Aedan wondered aloud.

Morrigan sighed, leaning forward into his chest, shaking her head. “I do not know. Perhaps ‘tis as she said. The darkspawn threaten her as much as they threaten everyone else. Or perhaps she believes that this journey will make me even more powerful. According to the tome, if the host is already powerful, it takes less time for Flemeth to… settle in. or perhaps she just wished me gone from the Wilds, so she could begin preparations in peace. A disturbing thought.”

Aedan took a few minuets to register what she just said. _Possession?_ What the hell had he gotten himself into? “So is your mother immortal, or something else entirely?” After their late night adventures, Aedan had slowly managed to get Morrigan to divulge more and more about her life in the wilds, including the fact that her mother, Flemeth, was once a noble from hundreds of years ago, in Highever, of all places. He didn’t believe it at first, how could an abomination reproduce? But as she relayed what Flemeth had told her – that she was in love with a man named Osen but betrothed to another for a life of wealth, and betrayed by said finance, she enlisted the aid of demons – he found himself thinking that there might be some truth to her accusations.

“Whatever spark of the demon that made her what she is, remains within her and keeps her from dying. But her body deteriorates. Eventually, she would be so wizened as to be senseless and immobile. So she must seek a new body, a fresh body, and start the cycle anew,” Morrigan was saying. 

Aedan watched her carefully, seeing that look of determination creep into her expression. He knew that look, it was trouble. “So what do you intend to do about it?”

“There is only one possible response to this. Flemeth must die. I will not sit about like an empty sack, waiting to be filled. Flemeth must be slain, and I need your help to do it,” she replied darkly.

Aedan’s eyes bulged in disbelief. “Kill your mother? Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”

Morrigan’s gaze did not falter. “No. Were our roles reversed, Flemeth would not waste time seeking me out. Better to deny her what she wants rather than feed her power.”

Aedan had his doubts about this, but the urge to protect the woman he loved eclipsed whatever nasty surprise his mind could conjure up. He pulled her close and cupped the side of her face, caressing the soft skin there. “If you truly believe you are in danger from her, I would do this for you Morrigan.”

In the glow of the firelight, Morrigan’s eyes softened. She leaned into his touch and covered his hand with her own and squeezed firmly. Her voice was husky as she replied, “I know, and I thank you for it. You are... not what I expected.” She kissed him then and they embraced for a while before she breached the subject again.

“Aedan, there are certain requirements for the slaying of my mother. You must go to her hut, without me. If I am present when she is slain, I cannot be certain that she will not be able to possess my body right then. So I must remain in the camp.” She searched his face for signs that he might change his mind, but was relieved to see his courage did not waver. “Confront her and slay her quickly. I truly doubt she will be dead even then, but it will take her years to find a new host and regain her power. If that is even possible.”

Aedan nodded as he listened to what she was saying. He did not relish the fight that was to come but he would do it all the same. Morrigan stroked his forearms urgently. “The thing that I must have is her true grimoire. With it, I can defend against her power in the future. Everything else in her hut is yours.” 

“I want nothing from her, Morrigan, just your safety. After we go to Redcliffe and save the Arl, we’ll return south and slay Flemeth.” Morrigan nodded with a small sigh. From his new privileged insight, Aedan could now tell that Morrigan did not relish this fight either. Despite her upbringing, Morrigan loved her mother but she also loved her freedom. He found it more than a little sad that she would chose the latter over the former, but the circumstances were not ideal. He curled her body against his and tried to soothe her nerves. Leliana came to sit by the fire and begun to spin a tale for them. Afterwards he left Morrigan in his tent and finished cleaning the sword he’d found in the temple at Haven. Satisfied with the restoration, Aedan decided to present it now.

With purpose, the warden made his way across the camp to where Aleta, Sten and Oghren had set up their tents. He was about to pull back Aleta’s tent flap when he saw Sten emerge from the rocky overlook nearby, he had just finished his watch and was about to inform Oghren. The kossith stared down at the warden, puzzled. When he saw the sword in his hand the puzzled look intensified. “This is a gift, Sten.”

“I already have my weapon returned to me, warden,” the giant replied.

“This is for Aleta. It’s a sword made for a mage. I’d like to offer it to her along with an apology,” Aedan clarified.

The giant grunted with approval. “She has much potential, even without magic. She has instinct, that alone is half the battle won.” He glanced down at the blade and held out his hand. Aedan gave Sten the sword and upon further inspection and testing it with a few slices against the air, he returned it to the warden. “A fine blade. You honour her with such a gift warden. You respect her.” It was not a question.

Aedan smiled. “Yes, she is a remarkable woman.” To this Sten offered a rare smile but said nothing further, merely stepped aside to allow the warden entry into her tent.

He found Aleta within, thumbing the emerald pendant that hung around her neck, deep in thought. He coughed politely so she would realise he was there. She turned around with a smile playing at her lips. “Sten I -” When she saw Aedan standing there, her smile vanished. “Oh, it is you warden. What are you doing in my tent?” she asked, then her gaze dropped to the sword in his hands.

Aedan moved inside the tent, the flaps falling back with a soft swish. “I wanted to apologise if I made you uncomfortable the other night, when we were talking about the Fade. I presumed to know of the nature of your relationship with Sten and belittled you in the process and for that I am truly sorry. It is none of my business and I promise it won’t be repeated.”

Aleta looked at him for a moment, then smiled and Aedan’s breath caught in his throat. That look again! “Your apology is accepted, warden. I was perhaps a bit too brash with you. We have spoken little since leaving the Brecillian Forest, so you do not know what drives me.”

“We will rectify that, I promise.” He smiled back. He cleared his throat and breached the subject of the sword. He held it out to her and said, “I found this in the temple, while we were searching for the Urn. I thought you might make use of it.”

She looked at the sword for a moment, stunned as the blade began to hum and glitter at her touch. She gasped as she felt tingling in her hands. “This blade is enchanted. It’s responding to the magic in my veins!” Aedan wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. A few seconds later the humming and glittering ceased. Aleta stared down at the blade with new appreciation. “This is a beautiful sword, Aedan, but I don’t know what I’ll do with it. I have no training for such a magnificent blade.”

The warden chuckled mischievously. “Well, perhaps there is a certain someone you could ask to teach you how to use it.” His mind replayed the conversation with Sten just before he came into the tent and grinned. Yes he was sure the giant wouldn’t mind teaching her a thing or two.

Aleta blushed. “Am I that transparent?” she asked.

At this, Aedan laughed heartily. “Yes! But it’s mostly in the little things – like how much time you spend together, the fact that you prefer his company to anyone else, that sort of thing. Then there are bigger things, like that calming effect you have on him. You are the only one who can talk him out doing something rash.” 

Aleta looked at him for a few seconds, the colour of her cheeks returning to normal. “I see,” she said slowly. “Thank you for the gift, Aedan. I will try to use it without hurting myself. Or anyone else for that matter.” 

The warden chuckled again and decided now was a good time to leave. He bowed his head. “You’re welcome, Aleta.” Aedan nodded to Sten, who had now removed his armour and was ready to settle in for the evening, clearly intending on paying her a visit. 

Aedan couldn’t hide the gaping smile on his face as he watched the kossith almost leap into the mages’ tent and shut the flaps a little too eagerly. Well if they hadn’t already gone all the way, it wouldn’t be too far off now. His thoughts trailed off to his own dark haired beauty that would be waiting nude in his tent and his picked up the pace, eager for a tumble of his own!

* * * * *

The next day the party arrived in Redcliffe. They wasted no time getting back to the main chamber where Bann Tegan waited frantically. “You return! Have you any news?” he asked eagerly.

Leliana beamed. “Yes! We’ve found the Urn, and were permitted to acquire a pinch to save the Arl’s life.”

Teagn stared at her, wide-eyed. “You have? Wonderful! Let us go at once to Eamon’s chambers and see if the Urn’s healing powers live up to their reputation!” he said in a rush, not registering fully what she had said in his excitement.

In his chambers, the mages were performing a ceremony none except Wynne fully understood. She explained it was a healing ritual that was said to keep the spirit of the person from fleeing to the Fade. They mixed the ashes with a few other things, and began using their own healing abilities. The combination of the two soon had Arl Eamon awake and sitting upright on his bed, weary and aged. Isolde and Teagan huddled around him, hugging, kissing and weeping with relief before finding the strength to tell him of the events that transpired while he had taken ill. To give the family privacy, the party left to wait in the main chamber.

When Eamon came down, fully clothed fed and bathed, he went around to each of Aedan’s companions, shaking hands and giving his thanks. When he got to Aleta, he stopped. “Young woman, not only have you saved my life, but the lives of my family as well.” He turned to Aedan and Alistair. “And you two, for your service to Redcliffe’s people, you have my deepest gratitude.”

“We were not alone in accomplishing the task, my lord,” Aedan said, looking to each of his companions. 

The Arl nodded. “Indeed. I am in your debt, all of you. Will you permit me to offer a reward for your service?” he asked.

“I need only your help against the Blight. That will do.” Aedan replied, eager for a hasty retreat. He was acquainted with Eamon, and while he was a good man, he was also very charismatic. Aedan did not want to be drawn into the politics of the crown.

“I understand, but regardless of your motivations, I feel you are worthy of a reward. I would like to honour your efforts, nothing more.” Aedan could hardly refuse now so he just nodded. Eamon beamed. “Then allow me to declare you and those you travel with, Champions of Redcliffe. You will always be welcome within these halls. And for you warden, a shield of the same make as those carried by our finest knights,” he said, motioning to one of the guards and handed a large steel shield with a red tower etched on the front, the symbol of Redcliffe.

Aedan bowed his head and took the gift graciously. “Thank you, my lord.” 

The two shook hands and Bann Teagan stepped up to the Arl’s side. “We should speak of Loghain, brother. There is no telling what he will do, once he learns of your recovery.”

Eamon frowned. “Loghain insights civil war, even though the darkspawn are on our very doorstep. Long as I have ever known him, he is a sensible man. One who never desired power.”

“I was there when he announced he was taking control of the throne, Eamon. He is mad with ambition, I tell you,” Teagan replied, refusing to let his older brother talk himself out of fighting for what was right.

But Eamon knew that not every man was made equal and all capable of greed and envy. “Mad indeed. Mad enough to kill Cailan, to attempt to kill me and destroy my lands. Whatever happened to him, Loghain must be stopped. What’s more, we can scarce afford to fight this war to its bitter end.” The Arl of Redcliffe stroked his greying beard wistfully.

Aedan could see his dilemma and though he wanted to stay right out of this mess, he knew what the options were. “What about the other nobles? Surely you can unite them against him.” 

Eamon thought about this for a second. “I could unite the ones that oppose him, yes, but not all oppose him, he has some very powerful allies. We have no time to wage a campaign against him. Someone must surrender if Ferelden is to have any chance against the darkspawn.” This was now a matter of fact and could no longer be ignored.

“What about when everyone learns about what he’s done?” Alistair asked.

Eamon had made a decision. He looked to Teagan and Isolde before looking back to the wardens. “I will spread word of Loghain’s treachery, both here and against the King, but it will be but a claim made without proof. Those claims will give his allies pause, but we must combine it with a challenge Loghain cannot ignore. We need someone with a stronger claim to the throne than Loghain’s daughter, the queen.”

Bann Teagan spoke up. “Are you referring to Alistair, brother? Are you certain?” he asked, clearly doubting the soundness of this plan.

Eamon nodded, staring at Alistair, whose mouth was agape. “I would not propose such a thing if we had an alternative. But the unthinkable has occurred.”

Once he picked his jaw up from the floor Alistair cried, “I don’t want to be king! I never did. Even when Cailan died, I… I hoped something else would present itself.”

“You have a responsibility Alistair. Without you, Loghain wins. I would have to support him, for the sake of Ferelden. Is that what you want?” Eamon asked him, squashing any retort the warden might have made.

Alistair glanced over at Aedan, before looking back at the Arl helplessly. “I.. no, my lord,” he said, as he looked down at the floor dismally.

Any signs of Eamon’s illness were completely devoid as the astute noble rested his hands behind his back and commanded the floor. “I see only one way to proceed. I will call for a Landsmeet, a gathering of all Ferelden's nobility in the city of Denerim. There, Ferelden can decide who will rule, one way or another. Then the business of fighting our true foe can begin.” He turned to Aedan, giving him his complete attention. “What say you to that, my friend? I do not wish to proceed without your blessing.” 

Aedan had to smile, clearly impressed by the nobles shrewdness, despite his reluctance to get involved with this. However, he now saw what Eamon had spotted right away – it was inevitable. “This is the path with the least resistance and bloodshed, and since we’ll need as much advantage as possible, I concur, my lord. We will accompany you to the capitol.”

Eamon nodded. “Very well. I will send out the word. It will take some time to recall my forces and organise our allies. I would prefer to wait until that is done before calling the Landsmeet.” He gave Alistair one last look before turning back to Aedan. “In the meantime, I suggest pursuing the remainder of your Grey Warden treaties. We will need all the allies we can get if we are to defeat the darkspawn horde.”

Aedan nodded and looked at Morrigan with a warm smile, there were other things that required his attention.


	20. Secrets and Sorcery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aedan fulfills a promise to Morrigan, but with staggering consequences. All cannon belongs to Bioware. Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Nineteen: Secrets and Sorcery

A few days out of Redcliffe, Aedan was leading his party back to the Kocari Wilds for the showdown with Flemeth. He, Morrigan, Oghren, Alistair, Sten, Jovey and Leliana sat by Lake Calenhad and waited while Aleta, Wynne, Zevran and Tanner went to pick herbs and mushrooms to restock their health poultices and bandages. They were thick in the woods when they ran into a group of darkspawn. “Maker’s balls!” Tanner exclaimed, as he shoved Aleta out of the way of an incoming arrow. It whizzed close by his face, just nicking the top of his cheek and he cursed again, rolling out of range. He’d probably have a slight scar there later.

Aleta gasped, and returned fire with a projectile of summoned rock, blasting the genlock back. A trio of other genlocks took the archers place, armed to the teeth and accompanied by a few hurlocks, genlocks and an alpha, clearly distinguishable by its sheer size. The hurlock alpha towered above its brethren and roared as it dragged a huge spiked maul over its shoulder. Aleta’s eyes widened, but she gripped her staff with determination. She muttered another incantation and a second wave of rock left the focal point of her staff. As it launched forward it was embraced and intertwined with a bolt of frost. Aleta turned to see Wynne beside her, her signature element expelling from her own staff. She smiled and returned to the task at hand.

The magic released an explosion of frost and earth and the entire darkspawn group was heaved in every direction, taking multiple wounds. “Nice one, ladies,” Tanner grinned as he lined up a shot at the alpha, who was rising to its feet much too easily for Tanner’s liking. “Oh no you don’t, arsehole.” He fired a bolt from his crossbow and the metal pierced its arm, making the darkspawn howl in agony, though it didn’t stop it from proceeding forward. Tanner fired another shot and this time the bolt exploded in the alpha’s leg. The alpha dropped its maul and Tanner fired another bolt, this time aiming at its head. The rogue was sure this would be the end of his enemy, but to his complete astonishment, Tanner watched as the alpha grabbed one of the now recovering genlocks by the scruff of the neck and use it as a living shield. The bolt caught in the genlocks windpipe and black blood began to froth in its mouth. The darkspawn gurgled and choked on its own blood before the bolt could finish it off.

“What the _hell_?!” Tanner exclaimed. The alpha then pulled the bolts out of its arm and leg and reached down for the maul it was carrying. The remaining hurlocks cried out and ran towards the mages. 

Zevran, who had entered into stealth, was stalking the alpha from behind. He had been poised to strike when Tanner had wounded it, but the genlocks had rushed out of the scrub and flushed him out before he could attack. It was all the Antivan Crow could do to dive back into cover before the alpha knew he was there. He circled again, waiting for his next opportunity when he saw Tanner beginning to become overwhelmed with the four genlocks slashing at him in every direction. He looked at the mages, who seemed to be spreading out, trying to find an opening to use their spells without hurting the rogue in the process, while fending off the hurlocks that were hot on their heels at the same time. Zevran swore, he’d have to leave the alpha and help Tanner.

Tanner, meanwhile, had entered into close combat. He drew his knives from his belt and shoved one into the gizzards of the nearest genlock, thrusting the blade in deep then slashed down, blood and intestines oozed over his forearm. The rogue quickly yanked the blade out, shaking the organs and most of the blood that hadn’t already dried off, and leapt backwards to avoid a side slash from a second genlock. In one quick movement, he grabbed another knife and threw it expertly at the slashing genlock, embedding the blade directly between its eyes. The genlock went stiff for a moment before spluttering and collapsing on the ground. Tanner then reached once more for his belt, but before he could grasp yet another knife, he felt himself winded by a blow to his gut. He looked up to see a third genlock wielding a hammer, and as it was about to strike again Tanner found the strength to step back and grasp the knife at his belt and throw blindly.

The blade connected, but not to anything vital unfortunately. The genlock ignored the attack and swung the hammer again, this time the blow connected with the rogue’s arm, the loud crack signalling that it was broken. Tanner cried out in pain and fell to the ground, trying to shuffle back while the genlock continued its assault. It was about to deliver another devastating blow when suddenly, in mid-swing, it stopped. A look of sheer surprise crossed its twisted features as its head lopped forward, blood spraying all over Tanner’s face. The genlock fell beside him, and there, standing in the genlocks place stood Zevran, his blades coated in blood. With a slanted grin the Antivan said, “Are you alright, my friend?”

“What the fuck do _you_ think, Crow? _Shit_!” Tanner exclaimed, begrudgingly taking the elf’s offered hand and rising to his feet. The arm was definitely broken, and Tanner was even more pissed off to realise it was his aiming arm too. He growled death threats and looked up to check on the battle. Aleta and Wynne had made a mess of the three hurlocks, if the chunks of ice and earth protruding from their slumped corpses were anything to go by, and were now aiming for the alpha, who was swinging the spiked maul dangerously. “If that thing gets even just one hit on either of them, they’re fucked,” Tanner said.

“I quite agree, my friend. Shall we administer assistance?” Zevran was flexing his blade arm and crouched low, preparing to enter stealth again. 

“I’ll help where I can, but my arm is useless until Wynne can have a look.” Tanner grit his teeth as pain surged up his right arm as he moved his crossbow over to the left side of his body, unable to support its weight on the centre of his back. He retrieved his scattered daggers and tried to get to a vantage point, watching with envy as Zevran entered the fray.

Meanwhile Aleta and Wynne were casting minor spells on the fly. They didn’t have enough time to cast anything substantial, and they were more than a little frustrated when most of their spells barely hindered the advancing angry alpha. They possessed a natural resistance to magic, that much they learned from their time in the Deep Roads. If the mages were to defend themselves properly, they would need aid.

Zevran raced silently behind the alpha and when Tanner saw his signal as he came out of stealth, he threw his knives as accurately as possible and pierced the alpha – two in the ribs, one in the leg and a fourth in the shoulder. He cursed his wounds again. The alpha roared at the unexpected attack and swung the maul wide. Zevran expertly ducked and weaved out of the wild swinging and plunged his blades into the alpha’s kidneys. The alpha roared again and came crashing to its knees. Zevran was about to deliver the final blow and sliced the thick neck, when the alpha reached out and grabbed the elf’s arm, throwing him forward and pinning him to the ground in an attempt to strangle him.

Tanner swore again, there was nothing he could do to help. He watched in horror as the alpha threw its weight forward, putting everything it had into killing the elf. Zevran kicked out and tried to wriggle free, anything to get away from this hulking beast. Aleta raised her staff and began to mutter something when she was struck from behind by the last remaining genlock that had somehow escaped its skirmish with the rogues. She blacked out and slumped forward, unconscious. Tanner swore again and hobbled as best he could to her side, ready to punch on with the disgusting creature if he had to.

Wynne, realising she had to do something and fast, spun around and hurled an ice bolt at the genlock, freezing most of its body in place and sprinted to Zevran’s aid. With all her might, she summoned a freezing wind and aimed it right at the alpha. With each blast of cold the alpha’s movements slowed and eventually came to a halt. She then pried the elf from the alpha’s death grip and checked for vital signs. She sighed in relief, he was alive but unconscious. 

At this moment, the others had joined them, worried by all the fighting noises they heard. It took them only a moment to realise what was going on. Leliana ran to Tanner, gasped at his wound and helped him back to the others. When Sten saw the genlock above Aleta, he growled at and in two great strides brought Asala crashing down, splitting the darkspawn in two. He picked her up and carried her back to the group. Morrigan threw a fireball at the alpha and then Oghren cut off its head. Finally it was dead. He turned to the group and said with a chuckle, “Trust you lot to wind up in trouble as soon as we leave you alone!”

Aedan checked with Wynne that Aleta and Zevran would recover and the older woman nodded. “Yes, they’ll be fine. I didn’t expect to...” and then she fainted.

After a few moments she came to and when she opened her eyes she was being held by Aedan. “Are you alright?” His blue eyes searched worriedly into hers.

Wynne shook her head, trying to shake the black blurs from her vision. “For a moment there I thought I was... I thought it was all over.”

Aedan frowned at her. “You thought what was all over?”

Wynne pushed him gently away and said shakily, “Everything. I... I will explain everything when we are back at camp. Now is not the time.” Aedan nodded but didn’t press for more information.

* * * *

Once they had set up camp, Aedan made a beeline for Wynne’s tent. The older woman smiled at him. “I think I owe you an explanation for what happened earlier.”

The warden nodded and crossed his arms. “You had us all quite worried, you’re feeling better now, I hope?”

Wynne smiled and patted his arm affectionately. Then she cleared her voice and said soberly, “You should know that something happened to me at the tower before you came along. Remember my apprentice, Petra?” Aedan nodded and she continued. “She encountered a demon in the tower, and it would have killed her had I not intervened. I saved her life that day, but I did not survive the encounter with the demon.”

That caught Aedan’s attention. “What? But you’re standing right here!”

Wynne sat down in front of the tent and bade Aedan do the same. “Let me explain fully. I engaged a very powerful demon to save Petra. It sapped me of all my energy and will and left me drained - it took everything I had to defeat it, and when I was done I no longer had the strength to keep my heart beating.” She watched as Aedan absorbed all this information. When she was confidant he wasn’t creeped out she continued. “I remember my life ebbing away, everything receded away from me – sound, light. I remember being enveloped in complete, impenetrable darkness. And then I sensed a presence, enfolding me, and cradling me, whispering quietly to me.” She smiled at the memory. “The sensation is... impossible to describe. I was being held back, firmly, but gently, as a mother would a child who would be eager to slip from her grasp. I felt life and warmth flowing through my veins again. I began to be aware again of small sounds and the discomfort of my hip pressed against the cold stone of the tower floor.”

Aedan was stunned. He didn’t know there were beings of good in the Fade. He’d been taught otherwise. “That is an amazing story.”

Wynne nodded. “The Fade contains spirits both benevolent and malicious, but the benevolent spirits seldom make themselves known, because they want nothing from mortals, unlike the demons. It was one of these spirits that saved me, without it I would be dead. And it has not left me – it is with me, even now, bonded to me. You see I am supposed to be dead, it is the spirit keeping me in this world. And this is not the way of things. Perhaps the spirit did not expect this, but it is weakening, gradually. I am living on borrowed time.” She seemed very sad as she explained the situation.

Aedan didn’t want to ask but did anyway. “How long will the spirit last?”

Wynne shrugged. “I do not know. I can feel when the spirit weakens, so I should have fair warning. But come, let us not talk about this, there is time yet.”

Aedan was inclined to agree with her. There was so much going on right now, he needed to get his priorities in order before this stupid civil war got out of hand. The longer he procrastinated, the longer Loghain had to cause more strife. He squeezed Wynne’s shoulder and went to sit by Oghren and Zevran by the fire, happy to see the elf was none worse for the wear.

Tanner joined them as well, his arm now fully healed but it caused him slight pain every now and then. Also a scar that streaked from his top right cheek to his temple was now starting to form. He didn’t seemed bothered by it saying, “The girls go wild for a guy with scars,” and winked at Leliana, who punched him affectionately in his good shoulder. He and Zevran now saw eye-to-eye and respected one another.

After a few rounds of booze, Aedan discussed what they were doing next. The only ones who seemed mildly affronted by this was the other two mages; Wynne never having met Flemeth and therefore couldn’t concede that she be guilty of her crimes, and Aleta who had heard the tales of Flemeth and was disheartened that another free and powerful mage would be put down. This earned her a scowl from Morrigan.

Alistair, who normally would’ve been overjoyed at this occasion, was lost in his thoughts the entire journey, and Aedan had to admit that he couldn’t possibly fault him on that. He had much to think about.

* * * * *

Three days later they had finally made it back to the Kocari Wilds. Aedan knew there were too many darkspawn at Ostagar and so he allowed Morrigan to show them another route on the south-westerly side. Alistair suggested they make camp here, on a hill overlooking a ruined temple that had sunken into a lagoon and waterfall.

It was getting near dusk and they could see the smoke rising from Flemeth’s hut in the distance and it was then that Morrigan knelt down beside Aedan. “There it is, warden. My mother’s home.”

If he didn’t know any better, Aedan thought he detected a hint of fear in her tone. He turned to face her, and was surprised to see that he was right. “Are you sure you want us to do this, Morrigan?” His face was full of concern, this was, after all, her only living relative.

A range of emotions crossed her beautiful features and Aedan could tell there was turmoil churning below the surface. It was why she lashed out at him. “Of _course_ I do, you dolt! I would never have suggested we come all this way just for a blasted reunion!” She glared at him for a moment, before her eyes softened. “My apologies, Aedan. I am just...”

Aedan shook his head and reached for her. “Don’t worry about it. This must be difficult for you. I know you’re no coward.” He smiled back and kissed her. “We’ll get it done.” 

Morrigan wanted to say other things, but found no words would come out, instead she simply kissed him back and sighed. After several moments Aleta crossed their path, warmed her hands by the fire and went to sit on the overlook, staring down at the lagoon, deep in thought. Morrigan watched her with a strange look on her face and gave him another kiss and joined her. A puzzled look formed on Aedan’s face but he shrugged. Maybe they were going to patch things up? Morrigan was in an emotional state of mind, anything could happen.

“Can I help you?” Aleta asked with a frown as she felt the other mage's presence beside her.

Morrigan didn’t look at her, keeping her eyes trained on the rising smoke. “Are you prepared for what is to come?”

Aleta’s frown intensified, slightly irritated. “Of course not. I have no idea what we’ll be up against, or why this poor woman has earned such a fate. You’ve been insufferably vague on divulging details, Morrigan.”

Morrigan chuckled. “Point taken.” Slowly she lifted her head and the two mages locked gazes. The smile on Morrigan’s face vanished as she stared at Aleta, appearing to be thinking about whether or not to add something further. Eventually the witch of the wilds relented. Tilting her head to the side, Morrigan said slowly, “You are unlike any mage I have ever encountered before. You both unsettle and intrigue me. Who would have thought a Dalish clan would ever take in a human child, let alone induct her in their ways? Very curious I must say, unprecedented even.”

Aleta stared her down for all she was worth. “I’m sure it is, Morrigan, but you will keep your curiosities to yourself. I have yet to learn my place in the world, and I will not be discouraged by your unnecessary belittling nor your snide commentary.”

Morrigan raised an amused eyebrow, impressed by her impertinence. “As do we all.” She then returned her sights back to Flemeth’s hut and said quietly, “The time shall arrive sooner than you think.” Morrigan looked at Aleta for several seconds before rising to her feet. Aleta stared back up at her, feeling as though Morrigan was implying something else. Aleta shook off the feeling, sure that it was probably just another way the irritating woman was trying to unnerve her. She refused to be. Morrigan turned and joined Aedan by the fire once more and the rest of the night continued on.

* * * * *

The next day the party awakened early. The warden’s gathered their swords and shields and led the others, bar Morrigan, down the slope of the hill and into the wilds. They took down the odd darkspawn here and there, nothing major, as Flemeth’s enchantments kept the worst of them away. The sun was almost directly above them before they reached her hut and Aedan was surprised to see the old witch outside and staring right at them, arms folded defiantly, as though she had been waiting for them.

She appeared annoyed as she watched each of them come forward like a harbinger horde, sizing them up. She smirked, clearly unimpressed and not intimidated at all, until she caught sight of Aleta. The old witch’s eyes rounded with surprise, her arms unfolded and hung at her sides. But just as Aedan looked at Aleta with a queried eyebrow then turned back to the old woman she had masked it with easy nonchalance. Crossing her arms once more the old woman said with a condescending cackle, “And so you return. Lovely Morrigan has at last found someone willing to dance to her tune. Such enchanting music she plays, wouldn’t you say?”

Aedan stared at the old woman intently, hoping for a peaceful resolution. “I do not wish you harm, old woman.”

“And nor do I to you, warden,” Flemeth replied seriously.

Aedan raised his shield slightly as he drew his sword from its sheath. “But,” he paused to take a step closer to her. “Morrigan has uncovered you’re secret, Flemeth.”

Flemeth’s eyes swept over in Aleta’s direction for a few seconds, then continued to watch the warden. Suddenly she threw her hands in the air and cackled hysterically. “Hah! Which one, I wonder? What has Morrigan told you, hmm? What little plan has she hatched this time?”

“She knows how you have extended your lifetime,” Aedan replied slowly. It would seem the old woman was unhinged, and unhinged easily translated to dangerous.

“That she does. The question is, do you?” She let that thought marinate for a bit then said, “But, ahh, it is an old, _old_ story. One that Flemeth has heard before… and even told.” The warden had her full attention now. “Let us skip right to the ending, shall we? Do you slay the old wretch as Morrigan bids? Or does the tale take a different turn?” 

Aedan watched her carefully. “I have no choice. I need Morrigan, I love her.”

Flemeth spoke bitterly now. “Choice. There is power in choices, as there is in lies. I shall give you one of each. Morrigan wishes my grimoire? Take it as a trophy, tell her I am slain.” She glanced at the other companions before glaring expectantly at him. 

Aedan felt his insides quiver. Obviously she had been prepared for this outcome for a long time, so prepared in fact, that it seemed to be inevitable. The warden briefly wondered how she could anticipate such a thing, then realised she was a very, very old witch. “And what happens to you?”

Flemeth took a step forward and her voice oozing velvet. “I go. Perhaps I surprise Morrigan one day… Or I may simply watch. It would be interesting to see what she does with her freedom. Enlightening, even.” She all but whispered, “Would you give an old woman that?”

Aedan was doubtful, but had to ask anyway. “You think she will believe that?”

Flemeth’s glare intensified. “We believe what we want to believe. It’s all we ever do.”

Aedan really didn’t want to do this, and not because he was feeling sorry for this hag, it felt wrong. Flemeth had saved he and Alistair once, and he liked to think he was grateful for it. Only his word, his vow to protect Morrigan persuaded him to continue. “No, forget it. You would come after her even then, you are a truly formidable being.”

Without blinking or even showing a hint of emotion Flemeth shrugged her shoulders. “Shame. What will it be then?”

“Now you die,” was his simply reply. Aedan didn’t relish fighting a mage this powerful - for there was no doubt that she was powerful. Even he who possessed no magic could feel it, the sense of something ancient, primal, foreboding about her. He hoped the odds were in his favour and numbers would make a difference.

Flemeth nodded. “It is a dance poor Flemeth knows well. Let us see if she remembers the steps. Come, she will earn what she takes. I’d have it no other way.” She turned her back on them and climbed atop the mound before her home. Aedan and the others watched in sheer amazement as the pupils of her eyes disappeared and her body twisted and bent in odd angles, and as she grew larger until they were looking at another high dragon.

To say they were shocked was an understatement. Completely in awe would be a closer comparison. How could one being have this kind of power? To twist and shape ones body into a dragon?! It was not a reassuring thought. 

“Aww, that’s just great! _Another_ sodding dragon!” Oghren muttered sarcastically as he jumped over Flemeth’s swinging tail and rolled out of the way.

So it was finally confirmed, then. That night at Ostagar Flemeth had saved them. During those semi-conscious moments after he had been pierced by the darkspawn’s arrow, Aedan thought he had been spirited away by a large claw, and here it was, all of it. A dragon. Reeling from his epiphany, Cousland shouted orders and Alistair and he shielded themselves from Flemeth’s furious swipes. She knocked Aedan back and he rolled a slight way before shaking his head and charged back into the fray. Alistair had been successful and was now trying to find an opportunity to strike.

Sten and Oghren were on either sides of the dragon, trying to flank her, but the old witch already knew what they were going to do and kept them at a frustrating distance with her flame breath. Oghren, the crazy bastard, activated his berserker talent and took multiple swings at her tail, spinning around on the spot and generating a ring of red. When she screeched in pain he stopped spinning and leapt onto her tail and crawled up her back.

But Flemeth wasn’t having any of it. She roared and bucked wildly and Oghren went sailing and landed somewhere in the swamp. Tanner and Leliana, who were trying to take aim with their bow and crossbow, got caught in the fray and got smacked by her great tail. Flemeth roared again and pinned both rogues to the ground with her claws. She was going for the killer blow when out of the corner of her eye, saw Alistair and Aedan charging at her hind leg. She breathed fire down on the wardens but they weaved their way around and with loud battle cries, plunged their blades deep into her leg. 

Flemeth roared painfully and staggered slightly to the side. It was enough for the rogues to escape, limping and leaning into each other for support. With her good leg, Flemeth kicked out and even though they tried to block, the sheer force of her power threw the wardens back anyway. They hit the ground hard and fast and Aedan thought that he might have broken something. Cousland inspected his side and discovered that his armour had been ripped apart and he was bleeding from his side. Alistair didn’t fare much better. His armour was torn as well and he was bleeding from the head, but still conscious. 

Groggily, Aedan turned to inspect the rest of the battlefield and saw Wynne hurry over to check on Tanner and Leliana, and then saw a blur of movement that had to be Zevran make his way to the angry dragon. The Antivan was trying to make his way to the her soft underbelly, where he knew she would be vulnerable. He had almost made it within striking range when Flemeth started thrashing around again, as if sensing him. With impressive dexterity the elf jumped, weaved, rolled, flipped and side stepped almost every swipe, swing and stomp the old witch threw his way, flushing him completely out of stealth. He had her full attention now, and watched the twitch at her maw, signalling that a fireball was imminent. A look of panic crossed his features, and he made the decision to run directly beneath her, diving low and kick sliding his way to the opposite side of her and into the bog. 

Flemeth stretched her jaws and flame blasted from her maw, scorching the ground in front of her. When she realised the elf had escaped, she roared in frustration and searched for him. Meanwhile, further away, Aleta used this distraction to rush to the part of the swamp where Oghren was thrown, Jovey hot on her heels. With the mabari’s help, she dragged Oghren out of the putrid bog and spread her hands in a wide arc above his chest, a white glow beginning to manifest from her palms. She was mid-way into the healing spell when she heard Flemeth roar again, appearing to give up on finding Zevran. She cursed in elvish when she looked up to see the dragon lower her head and charge.

With one hand, Aleta threw up a shield of equal portions of earth and the Fade and whispered, “Keep him alert, Jovey. I will hold her off for as long as I can.” The mabari yelped his understanding and knelt at Oghren’s feet, licking his face every so often. 

Flemeth charged and slammed her head violently against the shield, sparks of hot white light reverberated off the semi-invisible bulwark as her snapping jaws tried to wear down her fortifications, but Aleta’s will proved stronger. Dropping her staff and thrusting her other arm forward, Aleta summoned more power from within herself. Huge chunks of the terrain rumbled as they were forced from their place and fused together to enforce Aleta’s shield. Flemeth screeched, frustrated, as she tried clawing and bashing her tail against it to no avail.

Wynne, Tanner and Leliana who were watching from the distance stared at the collision in utter awe, transfixed, whispering in unison, “ _Maker..._ ”

Flemeth reared up on her hind legs and prepared another fire blast when she heard Sten yell, “ _Ashkost kata!_ ” Realising that this threat must be dealt with before she could take down the mage, Flemeth growled, turning her attention to the thundering Qunari. 

“You will _not_ have her, _witch_!” Sten charged a path that aimed right for Flemeth’s good leg, and lifted Asala high in the air and then brought the glimmering blade crashing down into her back leg, slicing her open from leg to belly as he ran toward her head. She roared again, spraying her flame breath in every direction as she came crashing to the ground. 

Once he had reached her forearm, Sten climbed atop her back with the intention of cutting off her head, but Flemeth hadn’t lived this long only to be taken out like this. Gathering her magic into herself, the ancient shape-shifter found the willpower to rise again. She bucked wildly and the great Qunari was thrown from her back and landed beside her gnarled claw. She cast eerie yellow eyes down on him before snatching him and took to the sky.

Sten cursed as he struggled to get free, but the old witch only snapped her jaws threateningly at him. She scanned the field and when she found Aleta she halted in mid-air. 

Wynne, who had gotten around to the wounded wardens said, “Why does she hesitate every time she looks at Aleta?” She healed them up as much as she could and helped them over to Oghren and Jovey, all protected under Aleta’s shield.

“Yes, I am curious to that as well,” Alistair added, wincing as he stumbled a little, banging into Aedan’s shoulder plate, aggravating his sore temple.

“What does it matter?” Oghren muttered, coming to, as he coughed up gunk from the swamp. “One of you, shoot that damn dragon down, and fast!” He added as Leliana, Tanner and Zevran joined them.

“My pleasure,” Leliana said viciously, aiming her bow. 

Flemeth noticed them all gathering below her and readied herself for a nosedive. With all her speed she hurtled down toward them and with the force of a thousand winds she rocketed to the ground, burning all that got in the way. She circled them before diving again, slamming into the wall with staggering force, adding more flame to the onslaught.

Between the scorching flames, the fierce gust of Flemeth’s wings and the barrage of physical attacks, Aleta’s shield had held once more, if only barely. It was flickering, the bits of terrain beginning to crumble and she knew she didn’t have long before it would deteriorate completely. She fell to her knees, exhausted by her efforts and yelled, “You all must disperse! I cannot sustain this for much longer! Leliana, shoot her!”

Flemeth roared furiously, denied of a victory and turned about and tried once more, dodging all Leliana’s arrows and dropped the Qunari as she went. Sten fell to the ground with a loud thud, clearly breaking more than a few bones, grunting painfully as Wynne raced to his aid. Everyone scattered and tried to find cover, but this time they weren’t so lucky. Zevran, Oghren and Aedan copped the brunt of it, their armour now torn to shreds. They cried out, cursing the old hag and watched as Flemeth landed, unable to keep herself airborne any longer. 

Aleta was the only one in any condition to fight now, even though she was almost spent, and Aedan found himself wondering if this was finally the end.

With ragged, uneven breath, Aleta reached for her staff and aimed at the weary dragon and muttered a few words. A boulder rose up from the ground and hurtled towards her. Flemeth smashed it down with her powerful tail, but roared in pain as a second boulder impacted with her side and pushed her over, exposing her underbelly. Clearly something had broken as they all heard the sickening snap of bones breaking. Then they watched as the dragon began to shrink back into the form of the real Flemeth.

She was utterly broken, spitting and coughing up blood. Her face had bruises and welts and her legs were bent in odd angles, and there was a huge gaping gash from her ankle to her thigh, her clothes now shredded rags. Panting with her exertions and leaning on her staff for support, Aleta slowly made her way to the old witch, knelt down beside her and said, “Any last words before you meet the Creators, old woman?”

To her complete astonishment, Flemeth began to cackle, quietly at first, then louder, loud enough for all the party to hear as blood began to fountain down her chin. Then she coughed some more before reaching out to Aleta. “Come closer, child. I _do_ have something to say.”

Warily, Aleta knelt down so she could hear. Flemeth cackled like a demon as she uttered a spell and Aleta’s staff went flying from her gasp. The old woman tried to grab her but Aleta instinctively reached for the sword at her side, the very same one Aedan had given her back at camp, and struck blindly.

Then Flemeth went limp. Aleta stared down at her, Flemeth’s blood splattered over her face. “You’re one feisty old woman. It’s a shame it had to come to this.”

With her last few gasping breaths Flemeth looked up at Aleta. “I am... proud of you, my... _daughter_. You have exceeded my... my every expectation. The People have taught you well.” She eyed the emerald crystal that hung from Aleta’s neck. “And you kept... kept my stone? I am... pleased…’’ Her head lolled to the side and she exhaled her last breath, blood pooling from beneath and around her.

Aleta held Flemeth’s lifeless, broken body in her arms and stared down at her, shell shocked. Then tears fell from her eyes as her mind processed what she had just heard. Then it all clicked. Old questions were now finally answered. She had found her family - and destroyed it. Shock gave way to hurt and hurt gave way to anger and finally boiled over into burning, unbridled rage. 

Aedan had managed to get to his feet after Wynne had attended to his burns, and helped the others up as well. They hobbled over to Aleta, but all backed up quickly when she began to emit a violent aura. Her whole body shook, and when she turned around to them she spat venomously, “Ar emma nan, na din'an sahlin, Morrigan.”

Soaked in Flemeth’s blood, she rose to her feet and pushed past all of them, murder written in her eyes. Aedan turned to Sten, hoping he could do something to calm her. A horrible feeling coiled in the pit of the warden’s stomach when he saw the Qunari looking even more severe than Aedan had ever seen him. Sten reached out for her but she threw him away with her magic, and he landed on his rear. Not phased in the slightest, he got back up again and called to her softly, “What is it, kadan?”

She ignored him and continued her way back to camp. He then turned to Aedan and said urgently, “Get the grimoire, warden, and be quick. There will be more blood spilled this day.”

Aedan hurried inside and grabbed what he came for, not really taking any notice of the surroundings and came back out. “I have it, let’s go.”

* * * *

Sten was right.

As soon as the party arrived back at camp they heard shouting. They rushed to the source of the chaos and were stunned to witness Morrigan and Aleta locked in a feverish duel.

“You knew all along, _didn’t_ you?!” Aleta screamed as she blew up Morrigan’s tent, scattering her belongings and obliterating a few personal effects. “You cold hearted _bitch_!”

Morrigan’s eyes dilated in pure shock when she realised Aleta’s homicidal intent. Clearly the witch of the wilds did not expect the mage to survive the encounter with Flemeth. Gathering her wits, Morrigan dodged the incoming blast, clutching her staff tight, her hands beginning to glow. “I did what needed to be done, what was right.”

“What was right for _you_ , you mean! There is not an ounce of empathy in you, is there, Morrigan? You soulless, heinous... _Fenedhis! Ar tu na'din_!” Aleta slipped into Dalish the angrier she got, throwing chunks of earth at Morrigan.

Morrigan gasped as she sidestepped another stream, disturbed at just how close she had come to being dismembered, as the magic missed her by only a few inches, and glared at her. “Right for _everyone_ , in fact. Flemeth was a threat to all. Why can you not see that, you selfish child?” She replied, her staff crackling a warning.

“ _Selfish_?!! You had me kill our mother in cold blood! How _dare_ you throw such - ” Aleta devolved back into Dalish, spitting something undecipherable, but definatley insulting, if her tone was anything to go by.

On the other side of the camp, the rest of the party kept their distance. “Wait, wait just a minute. Did she just say _our_ mother?” Alistair whispered to Aedan, an incredulous expression across his face.

Aedan clenched his jaw tightly, that’s what he’d heard too. “Yes.” Alistair looked as though he was going to be sick but continued to stare the two mages, unable to look away.

“Grow up, Aleta! Flemeth was no more a mother to you than I am a sister,” Morrigan retorted, irritated as she and Aleta began to circle around each other, staves at the ready.

“I guess I will never know now will I, _shemlen_!” she spat venomously. Aleta slammed the butt of her staff down, commanding a landslide from behind Morrigan. The witch of the wilds snarled angrily and shape-shifted into a giant spider, trying to climb out of harms way. Aleta’s palm began to shake as debris gathered in the centre of it, growing larger the longer she muttered incantations until it was the size and shape of a coarse, jagged lance. With magic assisting her, Aleta threw the lance, and this time Morrigan wasn’t fast enough to dodge. One of her legs tore as the earth-lance penetrated the limb. Morrigan screeched in pain and she lost her balance, tumbling down into the rubble below. She managed to web a portion of the ground to break her fall, bouncing with a soft, _thud_ , and skidded away. Unable to sustain the spider’s form due to the break in concentration, Morrigan transformed back into herself, her right leg now broken. 

Enraged, Morrigan was finally forced to retaliate. She summoned her staff and thrust it forward, lightning beginning to crackle at its tip. With a few words Morrigan released the chaotic energy and winced as she had to put a little weight on her broken leg to get maximum focus, but it was a worthwhile sacrifice. She smiled smugly as the bolt crackled and fizzed past Aleta, making the other mage cry out painfully as the unstable energy scorched her exposed thighs and forearms. Morrigan scrambled to her feet, crying out again as she switched her weight onto her good leg, firing off more bolts of lightning. She tried to use this as a distraction, knowing Aleta would have to defend herself while Morrigan could gain some ground.

And defend herself she did. Aleta sidestepped and rolled out of the path of the erratic element, taking advantage of Morrigan’s wound to summon an earthquake. The ground beneath them rumbled then split, and the rest of the party held their collective breaths, sure it would drag them both down, but Aleta thrust her hand up, raising herself high in the air on the bit of ground she stood on. Morrigan gathered the will to roll away from the shattering chasm, but not before she stumbled and fell into a small gap between the camp and Aleta’s plateau. 

Morrigan, far from being beaten, channeled some energy into a meteor shower directly above her adversary. To avoid being devoured in a hail of fire, Aleta reached up with both hands and cast a shield made purely of the Fade, absorbing the entirety of Morrigan’s spell, dropping her staff in the process - running on pure adrenaline now. 

As the shield took time to absorb the flaming chunks of rock, Morrigan shape-shifted into a bear and began to pound away at the mesa, making it difficult for Aleta to stand and sustain the shield while the ground shook from Morrigan’s efforts. When she had finally destroyed the pillar Aleta was balancing on, she transformed back into her human self, collapsing from having to use her broken leg, and brought her sister down with her.

The two women fell hard, back on the camp-site ground and wrestled, Morrigan having a poisoned dagger at the ready and Aleta reaching for her staff. It seemed Morrigan had the advantage as she straddled Aleta and aimed her dagger directly above her sister’s heart. Morrigan plunged the blade down and at the same time Aleta thrust the staff forward, successfully blocking the attack, though the poison that coated the blade dripped onto Aleta’s leather armor and began to eat away at the material. She cried out as the venom trickled down her side, stinging all the way. Struggling to get free, Aleta kneed Morrigan in the back, hard, and when she fell forward, dropping the poisoned blade, Aleta grabbed her disheveled hair and punched her in the face. Morrigan yelped in pain and rolled away. 

The two stood their ground; bloodied, bruised, heaving for breath and with staves at the ready once more, were about to again summon more magic when Sandal, the dwarven merchants son, ran across the camp yelling angrily. “ _Stop_! Stop this now!” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black pebble, a rune, and slapped it with his other hand. All of a sudden their magic began to waver and eventually deteriorated. Morrigan attempted to ignite her hand but nothing happened. Aleta also tried producing something but she too found she could not. They stared at each other, stunned.

The onlookers took this small window of opportunity to intervene. Alistair shoved Sandal aside, getting him safely out of harms way and smiled gratefully. Whatever else those runes could do, they were quite powerful. Sandal nodded his understanding. “Too loud, too terrible.” Alistair frowned, but smiled back. The dwarf was too simple-minded to express himself any better than that.

Aedan ran to Morrigan, drawing her back to him. Suddenly realising others had joined them and that she was being restrained, Morrigan spat curses and insults at Aleta, while Sten grabbed Aleta around the waist just as she was about to lash out at Morrigan, and carried her away to the other side of the camp. She bucked wildly against him and returned the insults with equal vehemence.

“Get off me, Aedan!” Morrigan shrieked as he took her as far away from Aleta as possible. Aedan’s mind was reeling from what he had just seen but he wasn’t going to release her until he knew she was calm and could provide answers.

“Just what in the name of Andraste’s flaming _arse_ was that all about? And don’t tell me nothing, or I’ll break your other leg, woman,” Aedan warned, setting her down and signalling for Wynne and Alistair to join them. “We have just slain your mother, and it would seem the repercussions are staggering.”

As her wounds were attended to, Morrigan took in what he just said and after a short while she tried to recover her composure. “I... I asked for Flemeth to be slain and you have succeeded. Now, I will live with the consequences.”

Aedan shook his head, mystified. “What consequences? Why did Aleta attack you? What could Flemeth have said to set her off like that?”

Morrigan looked him right in the eye. “Something I would not. The truth.” 

Alistair and Aedan looked at each other, frustrated. “Which was?” Alistair prompted.

Clearly not wanting to discuss this, Morrigan said in annoyance, “In the grimoire you gave me, it does indeed explain mother’s secret of her survival. And yes, I _was_ truly at risk. But what I withheld from you was that I was not the only candidate to be her vessel.” 

Alistair shot Aedan an _I told you bedding her would be trouble_ look. Aedan sighed heavily, knowing full well now that he had been played. “Why would you not tell me this? Do you not trust me, Morrigan?”

Morrigan smiled bitterly. “Would you have believed me? I think not, I could scarcely believe it myself. No, I discovered that I had a sister, a _twin_ sister in fact, that Mother gave to the Dalish for safe keeping! Imagine my surprise when I realised who she was, that Mother knew all along we would find her in the Brecillian Forest.”

Alistair inhaled sharply. What the hell?!! “You’re saying Aleta is Flemeth’s daughter, and your twin? By the Maker!” Alistair exclaimed.

“And in knowing this, you sent her to her death anyway,” Aedan said, appalled by the idea.

Morrigan folded her arms, a scowl marking her face. “It was necessary. If Mother had inhabited her body, as I thought was her plan, I could’ve slain her when you brought her back. She would be weakened from the possession, thus an easy target, aside from that, Aleta is hardly a powerful witch. She was taught by the Dalish, after all – a people who have all but forgotten who they are. They would not have shared all their secrets with her, no matter how great her lineage, if they truly ever did know in the first place.” 

Morrigan gasped as Wynne jabbed roughly at her wound. She looked down at her and the elderly healer said angrily, “How _dare_ you? Aleta has earned her place among the wardens. She is a powerful witch and healer in her own right, giving you a run for your money tonight, even after battling one of the greatest apostate’s of all time, did she not?”

Morrigan’s jaw clenched. “’Tis merely a scratch. I have suffered worse at Flemeth’s own hands. At any rate, there is the story, warden. Have I satisfied your curiosity? Can we move on now?”

Aedan was seriously conflicted. He had never seen this side of her personality, though he knew it must have existed. He had been too blind by his feelings for her to look at the bigger picture. Morally what she did was wrong, and sad. For her to think that that was her only option, rather than tell him the truth both hurt and angered him. He knew Morrigan loved him, as he loved her, even if she thought that it was some form of weakness. What should he do now? Morrigan was as powerful as she was arrogant and Flemeth had given her to him knowing she would be needed her for the trials to come. Did she also know about this? Aedan would wager so.

Cousland knew the end was coming, but how could he let her stay knowing the depths that she would sink to if she felt cornered or trapped? She had tried to kill one of them. How could he let this stand? He felt distaste form in his mouth. “Morrigan, what you have done today is deplorable. You have broken my trust, used Alistair and I as pawns and tried to have Aleta killed, all to save your own skin. I should kick you out of our party, but it would appear you are still needed.” With a glare of hurt he threw Flemeth’s true grimoire on her lap. “Here, I hope its secrets were worth the price.” He didn’t bother to try and comfort her as she stared down at the ancient tome, tears stinging at the backs of her eyes.

Her voice was but a whisper as she watched him walk away, Alistair and Wynne following in his wake. “Your will warden, but know that you have my gratitude for saving my life this day.” 

On the other side of the camp, Sten had Aleta pinned until she calmed down. After all that had transpired, her fight with Flemeth and now the battle with Morrigan, she was utterly spent. She slumped against his arm and Sten signalled for Tanner and Wynne to join them. The healer smiled warmly down at Aleta, pride swelled within her heart. “Well she’s a fighter, wouldn’t you say Sten?” The Qunari hinted at a smile and Wynne chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She began to heal up Aleta’s burns and when she got to where her armour was eaten away and the black veins that were now beginning to spread, she motioned for Tanner to sit beside her and inspect it. “What type of poison is this? I’ll need to know the herb to mix for an antidote.”

The rogue peeled back a bit more of her brace and had a look. “I would say probably cave spider venom. See how the veins are spreading out like spider legs? I got hit with a poisoned arrow once and my wound did exactly the same thing. Crush some ebrium flower with elfroot into the powder for the antidote. If you happen to have some blood lotus handy, that might help her to heal quicker, though she’s going to have a scar for the rest of her life.”

“And more once I get my hands on that sheml – aahh!” Aleta glared hotly then cried out as Wynne administered the ointment.

“Hush now,” Wynne ordered. “Lay back and rest. Morrigan has been dealt with. You must rest, because Aedan and Alistair are going to need you, indeed Morrigan as well when facing the Archdemon.” When Aleta was about to rise and argue, Sten grunted and forced her back. She glared at him but he ignored her. Wynne and Tanner exchanged amused glances.

After she finished her work, Wynne rose to leave them, but before that she said in a stern voice, “You let that heal and gain your strength. Do not seek Morrigan out.” Aleta, outraged, frowned heavily and glared some more then turned away from her. Wynne turned to Sten and added, “Please ensure she listens. We cannot be divided when we face the Archdemon.” Sten grunted and nodded.

Tanner rose too, saying, “You did great today, lass. Be proud.” Aleta mumbled something but refused to meet his gaze. 

The rogue left them to sit at the fire and Sten helped Aleta to her feet, still ignoring her glares, and let her lean into his strength. He chuckled when, despite how utterly tired she was, tried shoving him aside. She'd have had more of a chance moving a mountian. “You have such spirit, kadan. It will serve you well in the fight to come.” He brought his arm around her curved waist and pulled her in closer, half picking her up as still she fought to push him off her.

“Do not patronise me, Qunari. I know what you think of me now. I let my emotions best me and allowed my magic to overcome me. I know I failed in your eyes, but Dread Wolf take me, she deserved it!” Aleta spat as she practically ripped the flap of her tent open. When she finally realised he was not going to release her, Aleta had no choice but to allow him to lay her down on the furs and blankets.

When he didn't speak right away she feared the worst. She felt his violet gaze pin her there, those exquisite, piercing, indomitable eyes. His brows knotted together slowly and knelt down on the furs in front of her. Aleta's breath caught in her throat when she saw him smirk and lean in closer. He was so broad that he took up most of the small space of the tent. He cupped the side of her cheek with a large calloused palm and gently pulled her forward, lips parted. Moments before he kissed her, he breathed, “She _did_ have it coming, I confess.” 

His mouth, warm and firm, pressed against hers softly. Aleta was stunned briefly. In all her fantasies, she had never imagined Sten to be this tender. Didn't think there was anything tender or gentle left within him. His religious teachings, from what little he'd divulged, had all but tore that from him at birth. Emotion and affection was weakness. Might and control was strength. And yet here he was, smoothing her hair from her eyes and pulling her closer against him.

She craned her neck and he slanted his mouth, opening it just a fracture so that his tongue could slide along her lips and part them further, allowing it entry. She moaned and looped her arms around his neck, brushing against his thick, snowy braids. With his help, she lifted herself into his lap and pressed her lips harder against his, trying to increase the pressure and drink more of him. When he tugged on her arms to dislodge her grip, she protested hotly, biting down on his bottom lip stubbornly. A deep chuckle reverberated in his throat when he tasted his own blood and pried her arms from his neck and pulled her gently off him. His eyes smouldered as he wiped the blood away and kissed her roughly before pulling back from her. Aleta's gaze met his, challenging him to respond.

The indomitable Qunari focus would not be deterred, however, that didn't prevent Sten's jaw from tightening and eyes blaze with lust. With a telling deep sigh, he said gruffly, “You are injured, kadan. I will not lay with you in such condition.” With an intense stare, he added, “However, when you are properly rested, I will show you what I think about you and your magic. For now, lie still and recover, your body has earned it.”

He lifted her from his lap and moved his great bulk beside her, throwing an arm around her waist and drew her close. Aleta sighed, hating that he was probably correct. There was no way she could lay with him, no matter how much her body was protesting at the minute. She was far too exhausted and would want her wits about her when they would be together. Oh yes, she would want to remember every detail. She smiled, finally allowing herself to relax in her mind as she shuffled against his tunic and got comfortable.

The rest of the evening progressed on. Morrigan took her place away from the party again, rearranging her bedroll and furs and lighting her own fire. With no tent thanks to Aleta, she had to make do with what she had. She also ignored the dirty looks that were thrown at her by the rest of the party.

Aedan's eyes lingered on Morrigan, bent over Flemeth’s true grimoire reading feverishly. A pang of misery struck him like a sledgehammer to the guts. Did she even regret what she’d done? Zevran came to sit by him, a sympathetic look on his face. “I am sorry, my friend.”

“It's alright, Zevran. All couples have their problems, mine are always colossal fuck-ups. I wouldn't have it any other way.” He attempted humor but unfortunately, the weak smile did not reach his eyes.

“Spoken like a man in love,” Leliana smiled, sitting on his other side. “She is stupid for throwing away such a loyal and dedicated man. She will come to regret this night, in more ways than one.”

Aedan knew she meant well, but right now he was having a hard time not falling apart. Morrigan's betrayal, on top of Fergus, which now without Morrigan as a distraction, came crashing back in his mind. Doubt, fear, and despair clawing at his insides. The astute bard could see the turmoil behind the warden's eyes and squeezed his hand tightly. “I am here, warden, should you need me.”

Aedan grimaced but squeezed back. “I know, Thank you, Leliana.” Everyone else sat around the fire in silence, except for Ohgren who got drunk. Alistair and Tanner had a few pints as well. If Aedan hadn't been so miserable, he'd likely have gotten dead drunk as well. It was a night for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ashkost kata - Qunlat, meaning "You are seeking death!"  
> Kadan - Qunlat, meaning "Where the/my heart lies"  
> Ar emma nan, na din'an sahlin - Elvhen, meaning "I am vengence, now you die"  
> Fenedhis! Ar tu na'din - Elvhen, meaning "Curses! I will kill you"  
> Shemlen - Elvhen, meaning "Quick child/ren"


	21. Denerim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Morrigan's secrets hits the warden hard and he throws himself fully into the political maelstrom, determined to bring the civil war to a screeching halt. Meanwhile Sten teaches Aleta the finer points of swordplay. This chapter contains smut - you were warned. All cannon belongs to Bioware. Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Twenty: Denerim 

That night Aleta dreamed. She saw a lush forest, a marble and bleached temple adorned with fountains and cerulean pools of water. Elvhen men clad in shimmering armour, winged helmets and armed with tall spears guarding the doors. She was waking toward them and they gazed up at her, their faces bearing vallaslin and brilliant smiles of adoration. The guards parted for her, bowing deep and low, murmuring words of worship.

She was confused but kept moving forward, as though she knew where she was going. There was no ceiling, only vines and blooming flowers making an artful canopy above. She felt the earth beneath her feet and smiled letting the dirt move between her toes and felt the sunshine warm her face, inhaling in the scent of the forest. It felt so _right_. After a moment or two, she sat down by one of the pools and peered into it. Her reflection smiled back, and seconds later it changed to Morrigan's. Aleta gasped and before she could do anything else the reflection changed again. This time to Flemeth, though blood poured out of her eyes and ears and she was shrieking. Aleta slapped at the water, horrified, and as it rippled she was startled awake.

“Kadan, it is a dream,” a deep, gruff voice commanded, shaking her shoulders firmly.

“ _Ir abelas! Ir abelas!_ ” she cried, tears in her eyes.

The Qunari shook her again and Aleta blinked, looking around, confused. “Ma serannas, Sten. I… I was dreaming about - ”

“The witch, yes that much I gathered. You trouble yourself needlessly, kadan. What is done cannot be undone. You must move forward, asit tal-eb.” Sten released his grip on her shoulders and tilted his head to the side and stared at her, wiping the tears away with his thumbs.

Aleta sighed and looked away. “You say that like it's meant to be a simple matter of acceptance, Sten. I cannot be at peace, not yet. The wound is still fresh. Too raw.”

Sten frowned and thought for a moment. Further in the tent he saw the sword the warden had given to her, Spellweaver. He grunted and when she frowned at him, he said, “Your mind is consumed with irrelevant thoughts. Come, we shall put it to better use.” And without warning, he took Spellweaver and Asala in one hand and yanked her to her feet with the other and they exited the tent.

It was still early, the sun had not yet risen, though dawn would not be too far away. Sten led her further into the swamps, but not too far from the encampment, the darkspawn were still a serious threat. They passed Leliana, who was standing watch on an over-large rock and nodded curtly at her raised eyebrow.

They had stopped in a partial Tevinter ruin were the overgrowth was thick. It was clear from the swamp and had two giant trees and it was under one of them that Sten finally stopped and let go of her hand. “Emotion is a weakness, kadan, one that you cannot afford to let posses you. Master it and you master yourself.” He held Spellweaver in front of him and motioned for her to take it. “Swordplay is not only for survival. It can be used for discipline purposes as well. When you are one with your sword, you are at peace.” Hesitantly Aleta grasped the hilt with one hand. Sten grunted and grabbed her other hand and firmly pushed it on the hilt as well. She looked up at him and he nodded, “For balance.”

Aleta nodded and held the blade with both hands, staring down the blade in fascination as it hummed at her touch. She twisted the blade so it was held upright and slashed awkwardly downwards, stumbling a little. When Sten grunted, which sounded suspiciously more like concealed laughter, she shot him a filthy look. He helped her to her feet and moved behind her, covering her hands with his own and she felt his breath fan her cheek, heat emanating from his much larger, very masculine body. A shiver of delight snaked its way up her spine and she barely heard him when he said, “You are not cutting cheese or meat, kadan. At first slow, precise strikes is all that is needed. Feel the weight of your blade, respect its strength.” He adjusted her vertical slice and applied the pressure she needed. Aleta straightened her posture before testing the swords' weight, as he suggested before slashing at the air again. This time she didn't misstep, instead making a perfect vertical strike. Sten grunted again, nodding his satisfaction. “Very good, kadan. Again.”

He stepped aside and gave her a few more pointers, adjusting her hips and thighs which sent a twinge right to her core. He must have noticed too, for she felt his hands stiffen when she inhaled sharply. Much to her disappointment, he did not linger. Instead, he continued instructing without touching her, on how to hold the blade, where to strike and how to ply her weight for maximum advantage. Before long she was getting the hang of it and actually beginning to enjoy herself, and allowed her thoughts to wander.

Yesterday was, by far, one of the worst days of her life. Her life among the Dalish had not been an easy one, especially after having been passed onto another clan like an aging halla might be. Except that the halla might have had some sort of use. She, a human, had none, at least as far as Keeper Zathrian was concerned. She'd only been in her twelfth summer, but she remembered his hesitation, the barely concealed outrage. She had thought it was her magical talent that had tipped the balance. He had not yet discovered Lanaya and had no apprentice to succeed him. Aleta didn't understand fully, and was devastated to leave Keeper Marethari, but still she did as she was told, she was eager to please. She'd had few friends among the Dalish, and even though she held the love of Deygan, she loved him deeply, but only as a friend. He had defied the Keeper and pledged himself to her despite knowing this. She'd grow to love him as he did her, he'd said. All her life she had wondered her origin, craved the answers. None would provide her with one and it frustrated her beyond belief. So she had turned to spirits. She had given up when they, of all beings, could not help her, but now that seemed like so long ago. Almost like a dream. Her present was not much better.

What she had done, tricked or otherwise, would forever haunt her. Slaying one's kin was a heinous act among the Dalish, and Aleta knew that once this battle with the Archdemon was accomplished she would never be allowed to return to them. Even if they didn't know, _she_ would know and her heart weighed heavy in her chest with the knowledge. Her mother was dead making the pact she had made with them obsolete.

Ah, the pact. 

Aleta's grip on the hilt tightened, her knuckles whitening with the effort. She slashed angrily from side to side, losing momentum as she stepped out and slashed again, then stumbled backwards and landing on her rump, her chest heaving with exertion, sword cast away. This garnered Sten's attention. The Qunari frowned and watched her pick herself up and dust herself off. When he began to move toward her she shook her head. “Parshaara, Sten. Not another step.”

Hearing her speak his own tongue, the Qunari inclined his head. “Na'thek, kadan.” The corners of his mouth twitched as her brows knitted together in determination as she grabbed Spellweaver and steadied herself before beginning again.

Aleta's thoughts also resumed. In the hours before sleep overcame her, Aleta had been thinking about Zathrian's last words to her. There had been a pact made on her behalf. She had thoughts on what that could have meant. Flemeth, as the humans knew her, Ashar'bellanar – the woman of many years – as the Dalish and Aleta knew her, must have struck a bargain with the Dalish, though if she was this powerful then, there probably would not have been much of a bargain, more like an obligation.

With another glare, Aleta grunted as she thrust Spellweaver forward and spun on the spot, slashing horizontally at nothing. The ancient witch must have saved them from a truly horrible fate, Aleta thought bitterly. Harboring a human was blasphemous, and likely why she had been passed from her original clan at the last Arlathvhen, though her memories of Keeper Marethari were fond ones. The young mage couldn't help but wonder what trouble that might have been, but wondering about that was pointless, it was in the past, just as Sten had said. It had happened, and she needed to move forward. She wanted to know why she had been given away at all. Why was Morrigan worth more than her? Were they not twins, equal? The thought of her new-found sister left an acerbic taste in her mouth.

The only conclusion she could come to was that Morrigan had been correct in the first place. Admitting that to herself caused great pain. Aleta was to be the spare, the last resort should Morrigan’s body prove ineffective or unavailable in Ashar'bellanar's ritual. Perhaps her mother gave her to the Dalish fearing she would discover the truth and join forces with Morrigan and destroy her? Either way Morrigan had forced the encounter in hopes of a pre-emptive strike, saving herself. But that plan had backfired on her twin, badly. Aleta had survived and discovered the truth, from Flemeth’s own lips. 

And for that Aleta vowed she would kill her. She had been cheated, lied to and almost died, all for Morrigan's arrogance and pride. Aleta gritted her teeth and squeezed the hilt tighter, screaming in anger as she slashed downwards. Her emotions gripped her tight and she couldn't contain her frustrations any longer. A small burst of energy discharged from her and she lost her balance and fell. Aleta hit the ground with a soft thud, and the blade dropped out of her hand a second time.

Aleta grunted and slowly got to her feet, muttering, “ _Fenedhis..._ ” She went to reach for Spellweaver, but before she could grasp the hilt, a bronzed hand beat her to it. She looked up to see Sten staring down at her, a look that almost passed for tenderness in his violet eyes. 

He handed her the sword and when his hands brushed against hers, he gripped them, hauling her to her feet, saying, “Impressive, kadan, though work on your temper will be required.”

“Yes, I am aware, Sten,” she replied sarcastically, attempting to push him aside. “Your will is of iron I see. Nothing perturbs you. Perhaps you would care to instruct me?”

The bronzed giant smirked and it caught her off guard. “You would doubtlessly benefit from that, but for such training, it is not my role to teach you.” He looked her up and down appreciatively and she found herself welcoming his calculating stare. “Your body is not built for strength, yet you insist on forcing it to perform feats it cannot accomplish. Foolish. Your adeptness lies within magic. Find a balance of both.”

Aleta noted the ridicule in his tone when he said the word magic. She knew he did not approve of it, but did acknowledged her skill, however begrudgingly. She took what she could get with him. Aleta stared incredulously at him. “You would permit me to use magic while you train me?”

Sten grunted and drew Asala. He was all focus now. “It is not done, but I seem to be making many exceptions where you are concerned, kadan. Draw your sword.” Aleta laughed at his dismissal, her melancholy forgotten for a moment as her blade clinked against his. They parried for a few seconds before Sten applied more pressure on Asala, forcing Aleta down. “You must out think your opponent, kadan. Move me.”

Aleta gasped as she felt his overwhelming strength push the hilt backwards against her hands. She swore and stepped back, gasping as her hands began to throb. To move him was to move a mountain – it could not be done. Sten grunted, disapproving. “No, do not flee. Come.” He motioned for her to attack him again and Aleta complied, summoning additional strength from the Beyond and pushed him away. The Qunari was flown off balance and landed on his back. He grunted, picking himself up off the grass and charged. Aleta's eyes widened in panic when she saw the focused expression he wore, then composed herself, feigned left then right before slashing upwards in an arc movement, Spellweaver crashing against Asala. The blades sparked as will pushed against steel. Sten nodded, approving at the creativity as he blocked her deft swipes. He lunged at her and actually smiled as she rolled out of the way and behind him, the tip of Spellweaver pressed gently in the middle of his back. “Good.”

Aleta breathed deeply. “I should hope so, that was difficult. Thankfully you did not put your whole skill into it.”

Sten raised an eyebrow. “If I had done so, you would be dead, kadan. Magic or no.” Aleta only rolled her eyes. 

For an hour Sten kept the pace going and Aleta got better and better. There was no real hope of being able to overwhelm him without magical assistance, but Aleta was leaning to dodge and parry exceptionally well. Sten had her pinned against the Tevinter temple, their swords crossed, when suddenly he felt the crackling of magic around him. She pushed off the wall and scraped the blade up enough to duck and roll away. Before she could make her escape, he'd grabbed her wrist and swung her back around and applied pressure to her torso. She could not break free even if she wanted to. Sweat pouring down her brow, chest heaving with exertion, Aleta ran her tongue over her lips, resisting the urge to press her lips against his, if only to gain some sort of leverage.

Sten, who was breathing harder as well, stared down at her, clearly thinking about something intensely. Before he claimed her lips roughly, she heard him mutter, “ _Meravas, kadan..._ ”

Aleta smiled against his lips and their swords were thrown to the ground, forgotten. She stood on tip toe, looping her arms around his neck, toying with one of his snowy braids, tugging playfully. He groaned, pleased, and gripped either sides of her face with his hands and slanted his mouth, his tongue darting inside her mouth and dueling hers feverishly. She tasted of something foreign and tangy, likely magic, and sweat and he reveled in it. Aleta stretched up further to try and drink more from him, pressing her breasts against his chest, and then Sten slid his knee between her thighs and groaned when he heard her whimper his name.

Aleta's eyes rolled in the back of her head as his thigh rocked backwards and forwards between hers, applying sweet pressure to her clit. She moaned and quivered in his arms, tugging harder at his braids. He swallowed her groans as his lips crashed against hers again, pressing his mouth down hard, probably to the point where she'd likely bruise later, but he didn't care. She cried out when he bit down on her bottom lip, marking her, claiming her as his own. She tasted blood and clawed his shoulders, rocking against his thick arousal, startled by the girth and length of him. She pulled back and their eyes locked. “You will feel me soon enough, kadan. Every last inch of me,” Sten growled and Aleta shivered with delight, her eyes darkening with desire. 

The Qunari hissed when she clawed at him again, this time drawing blood too. Sten did not mind. With one oversized hand, he slid down her face, along her creamy neck trailing kisses and nips, leaving her a shaking mess. With his other hand, Sten cupped her breast, thumbing the nipple until it stood at attention beneath the leather breast band she wore. “ _Sten.._ ” she breathed, grinding down harder against his thigh, desperately seeking friction for her aching quim.

He removed her leather breast band within moments, and her supple breasts bounced free. “So beautiful, kadan,” he murmured appreciatively. His other hand cupped her second breast, giving it a little pinch before trailing lower along her flat belly and beneath her leather skirts, cupping her thigh and hitching it up against the wall to gain better access to her core.

Aleta cried out as he replaced his thigh with his hands, fingering her saturated smalls. He grunted in approval as her eyes widened with heady need, he could see she was thoroughly aroused, but he wanted to bring her to the precipice, to push her over and into ecstasy. He teased her entrance, gliding his finger back and forth against her folds and chuckled when she groaned in frustration. “I need you to _fuck_ me, Sten. I need it _now_. Stop toying with me, damnit!”

Sten smirked and with deliberate, maddening control, he removed the cotton barrier and pulled at her skirts, admiring the view with unabashed appreciation. Aleta sighed and rolled her hips against him, sliding her hands under his shirt and tugged at it. He obliged her, sliding the tunic over his head, and make quick work of his trousers. Her eyes smouldered as she ran her hands over his chiselled pectorals and rock hard abdominal muscles. “Perfection,” she murmured, kissing every inch of his chest, her hands sinking lower and grasping his stone cock. She licked her lips enticingly, pumping it a couple of times as she dropped to her knees and pulled the cotton briefs aside with her teeth. She gasped, awed at the sheer size of him, then wicked thoughts took hold. Images of him pinning her to the ground, taking her from behind and pounding her mercilessly flicked through her mind. She could almost feel it, the hard slapping of his balls against her, his hot breath in her ear… Creators, it would be bliss. “I can't wait to taste you. I want to touch you, to feel you stretch me, tear me apart and fuck me. I want - ” She was about to put her mouth to his cock when he gripped her wrist, picking her up and placing her on a high flat stone, positioning her sitting in front of him.

“ _Pashaara!_ ” Sten growled. “That tongue of yours is sinful, kadan.” Aleta could see the wild look in his eyes, he really was just barely keeping it together, his jaw was clenched tight and the look in his eyes spoke volumes. She had never seen him so agitated. _She_ did this to him? The knowledge both thrilled and empowered her. 

“And what are you going to do about that, Sten?” They locked gazes and Sten growled again, lifting her leg and holding it high. He brought his mouth down to her cunt and breathed against her trembling quim, licking her from base to clit. “ _Oooohh..._ ” She moaned, writing against him.

With his other hand Sten squeezed her ass, massaging the tender flesh there, and lapped at her in earnest, swirling, flicking sucking at her bud. Reaching out blindly for something to hang onto, Aleta bucked wildly, swore as she locked her ankle around his neck and pushed down, attempted to grind herself on him but he held her firmly in place. She was helpless to receive his ministrations. She clawed at his forearms but still he would not release her. She cried out his name one last time before she came apart, her orgasm an overflowing rivulet. He kept going until her bucking slowed and then pressed his lips against her inner thigh, her juices still wet on his lips.

“That was incredible, Sten,” Aleta gasped. “You must let me try - ”

He grunted, interrupting her as he picked her up effortlessly, flipping her over on her stomach and spread her legs. Before she could say anything else, he groped her plump ass and squeezed. He bent over her and breathed in her ear, “Are you ready for me, kadan?” Sten didn't wait for a response, instead he slid his throbbing cock into her opening and began to fuck her slowly, allowing her body to accommodate him. She hissed when he entered her, and following up with pleasured moans of “ _Ooohh,_ ” “ _Yesss,_ ” and “ _Right there… aahh!_ ” Sten closed his eyes and tried to steady himself. It had been too long since his last encounter with a woman and had not been in the right frame of mind until the wardens had given him purpose again. The woman beneath him had given him so much more and he wanted to return the favour. He pushed back his own needs and thrust harder as she was pleading for him to, and then faster, grunting with satisfaction when she bucked, pushed back on him and screamed his name as he stretched her, filled her with his girth. Before long she came again and a smug smirk crept up on Sten's face as the beads of sweat ran down her back.

Aleta protested when he pulled out of her. “Patience, kadan.” He chuckled at her glare and picked her up, positioning his shaft at her entrance then slid back into her. She dug her nails into his shoulders and moaned his name like a chant as he began thrusting up into her. He kissed her neck as he pumped harder, groaning as her tits bounced against his chest. It didn't take her long to come again, screaming his name and gave his braids another viscous tug. 

She shuddered with satisfaction, nipping at the junction between his neck and shoulder. She pulled back from him and sighed, “The stamina of the Qunari is incredible, Sten. If I'd known you'd be this good, I'd have tempted you before now.”

The bronzed giant merely raised an eyebrow at her. “No doubt. Your appetite for the exotic is a pleasant surprise.”

Aleta sunk herself deeper on his cock greedily wanting more and smiled slyly. “I am certain it is. I am beginning to think you have ruined me for other men.”

Apparently he liked the sound of that. The Qunari grunted and bucked up into her, hard, and she cried out again. In a rush he had her on the ground, flipped over on her hands and knees and was ramming into her, grunting and hissing. He snarled viciously as he felt himself too close now to stop. He slammed into her several times before shouting her name, as well as a few other phrases in Qunlat, and coated her insides with his seed. His body shook with exertion and even though he'd held the bulk of his body on his forearms, his lower half pressed against her ass. 

He was about to shift when she shook her head. “No, just a moment. I like the feel of you between my thighs.” Sten chuckled and after a few minutes he slowly pulled out, beads of his cum oozing out of her and drizzled down his shaft. He reached for a nearby cloth and wiped her clean before attending to himself.

They sat there together in comfortable silence, Aleta against his chest half naked. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she smiled as she heard his steady heartbeat. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy the moment, committing everything she had just experienced to memory. She knew it'd be the only way she'd be able to keep him with her.

Not long after they were dressed Sten asked the inevitable. “What are your intentions now that the swamp witch's plans have been revealed?”

Aleta sighed, she knew this was coming and she was prepared, though she was loathed to inform him. “I will be leaving.”

Sten was silent for a long time and Aleta was sure he wasn't going to comment at all when she heard him finally clear his throat. “Is this by your design or hers?”

Aleta couldn’t quite understand his angle, but she had a feeling she was not going to like it. “She made the decision for me. Whether or not I stay is irrelevant. You now have an adept healer in Wynne and an able if not sadistic entropy mage in my sister. What need is there for me?” She looked away, fearing his answer. He was, if nothing else, a practical man.

Sten grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him, his violet eyes darkening intensely. “More than you realize. You are strong, kadan, but there is a Blight happening. You will not last long on your own. _Stay_.”

Aleta held his gaze and dared, “Stay for whom?”

Sten grunted and let her go. “For your duty and your honor. You have a purpose - to help the wardens, fulfill that purpose.”

That was not the answer she wanted but it still produced the desired results. “ _Dread Wolf take the wardens, and their cursed Blight!_ My life has been decimated by that woman! I will _kill_ her on sight!”

Sten stood saying, “You will regret doing so, but your life is your own.” The Qunari sheathed Asala by his side and held out his hand to her. “Do we part ways here, kadan?”

With a frustrated growl she took his hand. “May the Dread Wolf take you too, vhenan. Yes, I will stay.”

Sten nodded in approval and escorted her back to the camp.

* * * *

Later that afternoon, Aedan informed everyone that they would be leaving for Denerim. He went to visit Bodahn and Sandal, who were none the worse for wear considering what had transpired between his mages. He explained that he would need a message to be sent to Arl Eamon to meet him on the outskirts of the captiol before actually entering.

Bodahn volunteered his services and the two dwarves made the journey back to Redcliffe. He also did the rounds, checking on Aleta and Morrigan, ensuring that the both of them understood that he would not tolerate any forms of antagonistic behaviour from them, else they be removed from his company. Morrigan quickly accepted his terms, apparently eager to stay and Aedan felt his heart flare with hope. Aleta, on the other hand, appeared to withdraw from him and Alistair, indeed from most of the party with the exception of Sten who made himself her personal bodyguard, and Wynne whom she'd always had a kind word for. She acknowledged his order and kept to herself for most of the trip to the capitol.

After two weeks march from Ostagar, Aedan's party had finally made it to the outlying farms and fields of Denerim. Aedan and Alistair exchanged nervous glances, they knew not what was in store for them but likely it was littered with hardship and difficulty. They decided to make camp here for the night and await Arl Eamon's enterouge. 

A few hours later, Zevran, who was on watch at the time, noticed lit torches and wagons headed in their direction. He notified the wardens and Aedan smiled as he recognised Arl Eamon's flag fluttering in the night air. He greeted the older man with a firm handshake. “Arl Eamon! You received my message it would seem. Welcome!”

The Arl chuckled as he let Aedan help him down from the wagon. He had recovered well and the strength had returned to his body. With a warm smile he replied, “Indeed. Bodhan was very animated upon his arrival!” 

The two nobles chuckled. “Agreed.” Aedan said as he led the Arl and his guards to the camp. “But he means well.”

After they had eaten, Aedan, Alistair and Eamon retired to Aedan's tent where they began to talk politics. Eamon had a few sound strategies, most involving persuading Loghain to step down from the throne. Alistair argued that the only way that Loghain would be leaving Denerim would be in pieces. Eamon tried to calm him, but Alistair was quite passionate on the subject. “Either way, Alistair,” Eamon said exasperatedly, “I will have to call a Landsmeet. Loghain cannot ignore it.”

Alistair was about to argue, when all three men turned around at the sound of a fourth person clear his throat. Tanner stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a scowl on his face. “Yes?” Aedan asked. “Tanner, did you need something?”

The older man stroked his charcoal goatee thoughtfully and stepped into the tent, letting the flap fall carelessly behind him. “You two realise you're talking about the Hero of Riverdane? Loghain has done much for his country. You would talk about deposing him and dividing Ferelden further?”

Alistair's eyes widened in complete shock. “Are you _serious?!_ That bastard killed the Ferelden Grey Warden's because he was a fucking coward!”

Tanner stared him down, the shadows emphasising his demeanor. “But that does not mean you can smear his name or his deeds so quickly. You forget, I lived through the Orlesian occupation. Those were truly dark times. Without Loghain, we would still be under those snot nosed bigots' heels, starving, flayed and destitute. And that was if you were lucky.” Tanner stepped out of the shadows and slammed his fists down on the sturdy table in front of them. “Loghain Mac Tir maybe many things, lad, but a coward he is not.”

Alistair stared, dumbstruck, at him. He turned to Aedan, expecting him to back him up. The realisation that he did not know Tanner very well dawned on the young noble. 

“Ah, I thought I knew you from somewhere, Tanner is it?” 

Tanner looked over to the Arl, a grim expression on his face. “I have kept out of your sight for good reason, Arl Eamon.”

Aedan and Alistair stared confused at the Arl. Eamon put a hand on Tanner's shoulders. “Loghain was my friend once, Tanner,” he said. “But he is not the man he used to be. You cannot expect your uncle to be the same man after something like that.”

“ _What?!_ ” Aedan and Alistair exclaimed in unison.

Eamon smiled sympathetically at the rogue before explaining to the wardens. “This man is Tanner Mac Tir, only nephew to Loghain. For his honourable and noble deeds in the Orlesian war, Tanner was granted the title Arl of Lothering but due to unforeseen circumstances, he renounced his arling to the regent.”

“Well fuck me!” Coulsand exclaimed. “I had no idea, Tanner. I suppose the blame is mine however, for not getting to know you better.”

Tanner inclined his head briefly. “I prefer my deeds speak for me rather than my title. You would not have let me accompany you had you known my true identity.”

Aedan crossed his arms and watched the older man for a moment. “You think so? We're both men of action, Tanner. Perhaps you assume too much?”

“Who cares?” Alistair interjected angrily. “Whose side are you on, Mac Tir?” He demanded, glaring at the rogue venomously. “We're going to kill that bastard, whether you like it or not.”

Tanner returned the glare. “Alistair I understand your feelings, but you mustn't let your emotions get in the way of what is right. If there is another way to unite Ferelden - ”

“There is no alternative.” Eamon said, cutting him off mid-sentence. “I see that much now. Loghain is mad with the lust for power and what he has done is unforgivable. However,” Eamon added, frowning at Alistair's gloatful smirk, “There must be a puppet behind this movement. Loghain never wanted the throne, in fact he abhorred what he called political nonsense.”

“I agree,” Aedan said nodding. “And I'm willing to bet I know who it is too.” They turned expectantly toward him. “Arl Howe.”

Alistair nodded. Eamon looked confused, but only for a moment as Aedan explained what happened at Castle Highever. “I am truly sorry to hear that. Your father fought alongside us all those years ago. He was a hero, Aedan.” The arl put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, offering whatever comfort he could. Aedan nodded with a faint smile.

Then they all turned back to Tanner. The rogue sighed wearily. “I am not a fool, I see what has happened with my own eyes. Let us travel to Denerim so I might confront my uncle. Then you shall have your answer, young prince.”

Alistair recoiled sharply at the comment, but said nothing further. Aedan allowed Tanner to be present for the rest of the discussion and after many hours of talking and planning, they agreed that Arl Eamon would enter Denerim first and the wardens and their enterouge later, then meet at the Arl's villa.

* * * *

The next day, late in the afternoon, Aedan and Alistair led them through the streets of Denerim. They were not surprised to see the common folk point and stare as they passed by – they had been declared criminals, murderer's of the crown. Only the Landsmeet kept them from being arrested on the spot. Aedan refused to be intimidated by their small mindedness, ignoring their jibes and jeers and continued on to the Arl's villa.

They were greeted by two heavily armed guards. When Aedan explained who they were the guards stepped aside and granted them entry. They were given directions to the library where the Arl was waiting for them. Looking up from a book Eamon smiled warmly and nodded. “Welcome, Grey Wardens. I will summon Loghain before we prepare for the Landsmeet. I would have words with him.”

“As would _I_ ,” Aedan nodded, his jaw clenched.

As they proceeded through the hallway of the Arl’s villa Eamon began to talk. “Denerim is the heart and soul of Ferelden. It was the city of King Callenhad, the birthplace or Andraste. As stubborn as a mabari and as good to have at your side.”

They turned a corner and found themselves in the atrium. The Arl took a seat by a small pool and eyed Alistair and Aedan. “If we defeat Loghain here, the rest of the nation will follow us. By calling the Landsmeet, I have struck the first blow. The advantage, for the moment, is ours. He will have little choice but to show himself, to oppose us directly. He will strike back at us. The only question that remains is how soon.”

A servant entered the room and announced that the regent had arrived. The Arl rose from his seat and bowed as Loghain, his commander Cuthrian and another man who Aedan recognised with a feral growl as Arl Howe of Amaranthine. Aedan scowled deep as he felt his blood begin to boil and tried to still his tongue. Tanner, who stood behind Alistair, was concealing any thoughts or feelings exceptionally well. Only the clenched fists behind his back would give away how on edge he really was. Leliana, who was behind him, covered his hands with her own and gave them a comforting pat, but kept her eyes trained forward.

Eamon's tone was strained, but he extended his hand to the regent. “Loghian, this is… an honour. That the regent would find time to greet me personally.” 

But it seemed that Loghain was not in the mood to exchange pleasantries. He looked the Arl up and down and found him wanting. “How could I not welcome a man so important as to call every lord in Ferelden away from his estates while a Blight claws at our land?”

Eamon scowled withdrew his hand, instead folded them instead. “The Blight is why I am here. With Cailan dead, Ferelden must have a king to lead it against the darkspwan.”

Loghain recoiled sharply. “Ferelden _has_ a strong leader, its Queen, and I lead her armies.”

This was going to be one huge political shit storm and Aedan was going to save them all some time and cut right to the chase. “If Anora rules, then let her speak for herself.”

Loghain turned to Aedan then. “Ahh, Cousland's boy. Aedan, wasn't it? My condolences to you for your loss. Bryce was a good man.” He then saw Alistair and rolled his eyes. “And Maric's bastard, what a surprise. You really are clutching at straws now, aren't you Eamon?” He turned back to the two wardens and added, “You have my sympathies on what happened to your Order. It is unfortunate that they chose to turn against Ferelden.”

Aedan went to draw his sword when he saw that Howe was sniggering behind Loghain but Alistair stopped him, shaking his head warningly. Aedan looked at him and nodded curtly before turning back to Loghain. “Brace yourself, you lying scumbag. I have come to reveal your crimes at Ostagar.”

Loghain brought his face dangerously close to Aedan's. They locked gazes and he spat, “You should curb your tongue! This is _my_ city and no safe place to speak treason! For anyone.” The two continued to stare at each other for a few moments longer before he turned away from Aedan and began to pace back and forth. He now addressed Eamon. “There is talk your illness left you feeble, Eamon. Some may worry that you may no longer be fit to advise Ferelden.”

Eamon watched him carefully before glaring at him. “Illness? Why not call your poison by its true name? Not everyone at the Landsmeet will cast their loyalties as easily as you and these… _sycophants_.”

Loghain scoffed. “How long you’ve been gone from court, Eamon. Don’t you recognise Rendon Howe of Amaranthine and Teryn of Highever?”

Howe spoke up, his tone arrogant and cruel. “And current Arl of Denerim, after Urien’s unfourtunate fate at Ostagar. Truly it is an embarrassment to riches.”

“You will _die_ screaming, Howe,” Aedan growled, his sword arm itching to be used.

“You are either very bold or very stupid to threaten the Teryn before witnesses,” Cuthrian said, taking a step toward Aedan. 

“That was no threat. It will not last, I will make _sure_ of it, wench,” Aedan replied ferociously, staring her down. 

Eamon and Alistair pulled him aside as did Loghain for Cuthrian. “Enough, Cuthrian. This is not the time or place.” He then turned back to Eamon. “I had hoped to talk you down from this rash course, Eamon. Our people are frightened. Our king is dead and our land is under siege! We must be united now, if we are to endure this crisis. Your own sister, Queen Rowan, fought tirelessly to see Ferelden restored. Would you see her work destroyed? You divide our nation and weaken our efforts against the Blight for your selfish ambitions to the throne!”

“If you truly want to save this land then stand with us, Uncle,” Tanner said quietly, stepping out from behind Alistair. 

Loghain eyes bulged in disbelief. “ _Tanner?_ ”

“Yes, Uncle. It is me. Stops this foolishness. The Loghain I know would never have committed or taken part in regicide. He was a proud man, not a vain man.”

The regent reeled from his words. “How dare you! Do not think that because you are family I will be lenient. Treason is still punishable by death.”

Tanner's jaw clenched angrily. It would seem that he was what Alistair and Aedan claimed he was. “It is not treaon if it is true, Uncle.”

Loghain eyed him up and down, clearly not impressed with what he was seeing. “You have let these two poison your mind. Pity. You think I should put my faith in untried foreign hands? You think I am _blind?_ ” He snarled at Tanner. “You fought along side us for freedom, nephew. I am protecting Ferelden as I did during the Orlesian occupation.”

Tanner shook his head. “No you are mad. I see that now.”

Loghain stared him down pitilessly. “Cailan depended on the Grey Warden’s prowess against the darkspwan and look how well that ended. Let us speak of reality rather than tall tales. Stories will not save us.”

Eamon shook his head. “I cannot forgive what you’ve done, Loghain. Perhaps the Maker can, but not I. Our people deserve a king of the Therin bloodline. Alistair will be the one to lead us to victory against the Blight.”

“Oh? Is that all I have to do? No pressure!” Alistair said, sighing loudly.

Loghain said dangerously, “The Emperor of Orlais also thought I could not bring him down. Expect no more mercy than what I showed him. There is _nothing_ I would not do for my homeland,” and with one last glare in their general direction he turned on his heel and left.

“Well that was, bracing. I didn’t expect Loghain to show himself so soon,” Eamon said with a heavy sigh once they were out of earshot.

“What do we do now?” Aedan was ready for action, and now. He had always hated the politics of the nobility, but knew the value of them. 

Arl Eamon led them back through the halls of the villa and said seriously, “Calling the Landsmeet is only the start. Now we must ensure that every noble there sees Loghain’s duplicity. We have no small task ahead of us. We need eyes and ears in the city.” He turned to Tanner with concern. “Are you quite alright?”

Tanner nodded curtly, refusing to be doted on.

Eamon acknowledged his feelings and went up a flight of stairs and continued. “Loghain has been here for months, the roots of all his schemes must begin here. The sooner we find them the sooner we turn them to our advantage. Go have a look around and see what you can turn up. Better yet, find the nobles that have arrives for the Landsmeet. Test the waters, see how many will support us. When you’re ready to talk stragey, come upstairs to my sitting room. We can lay out our plans for the Landsmeet there.” And in saying that he entered the room, leaving the rest to ponder how best to do exactly that.

* * * *

Aedan's first order of business was to scope out the city. It had been a long time since he had been here for more than a day or so, and he didn’t want to be unprepared.

The market was the same as always. There were blacksmiths and merchants from all over the continent. Jewels and silks from Orlais, spices and scented oils from Antiva and even blades and armour imported directly from Orzammar. There was a small stall dedicated to fortune telling over by the Chantry. Leliana mentioned that she had an errand to run at the south side of the market and elected Tanner to join her. Aedan recalled a few conversations with her regarding her previous mentor Marjolane. Aedan assumed she was going to pay her a visit.

Taking another turn the remaining group spotted Genitivi’s home and the Gnawed Noble’s Tavern, and further past there was the Magic Imporium. Figuring that they would probably find one or two nobles inside Aedan motioned for the others to follow. He was right on the money. Over by the darker corner of the tavern was a man he knew, Arl Wulff. Further down in front of him at another table sat Ban Sighard and Ceorlic of the Dragon’s Peak Bannorn.

Aedan was about to approach them when he overheard them gossiping about what events had transpired. “Yes, the poor man. Lost both his sons to darkspawn raids. Arl Wulff won’t be the same again.”

“And would em>you?” replied the other. Both men looked up to see them standing there and stared at Aedan. “Yes? Can I help you?” Sighard asked impatiently.

Cousland nodded. “Yes. I am Aedan, of the Grey Wardens, supporter of Arl Eamon of Redcliffe and the rightful king, Alistair Therin.”

The two snorted. “You expect us to listen to what you have to say, boy? The regent has served us well and has given no reason to doubt him. Begone.”

Aedan clenched his fists, couldn’t believe how blind they were. The must not know Loghain’s intentions, or they would have given him the time of day. Aedan clenched his fists and Wynne put a hand on his shoulders. “Calm yourself, warden. Look, there is another noble over there.”

Aedan turned his gaze in their direction and started to head over to them. He recognised the woman as Ban Alfstana, but not the man she was talking to. Aedan was about to head over there when he overheard them as well. 

“I don’t know what Eamon is playing at, Bryland. He is portraing the regent as a tyrant. I wonder what has happened in our absence from court?”

“I don’t know, Alfstanna. Could Eamon be right?”

Aedan thought about telling them exactly what Loghain’s crimes were but thought better or it. Old habits of self-preservation kicked in. He had to get proof, and quickly. Cursing their short sightedness, he all but kicked the door of the tavern open. They made their way back to Eamon’s villa and when he saw a familiar elven maidservant he scowled. Aedan knew this woman to be Erlina, Anora’s trusted confidant. If she were here alone, he knew it spelled trouble for the rest of them.

She seemed to be in a panic as she spoke to Eamon. He put a hand on either side of her shoulders and reassured her everything was going to be alright. By now Tanner and Leliana had rejoined them, both covered in blood and wearing tired expressions. Aedan stared at them with a frown. “And what the hell's happened with you two?”

“Later,” Leliana said quickly.

Aedan sighed and nodded. Erlina turned to Aedan, saying in a rush, “The Queen has been kidnapped, warden. She went to visit Arl Howe and he has locked her away in one of the guest rooms!”

Aedan's first thought was that this was a trap of some kind. It seemed all too convienent. “And what do you want me to do about it, Eamon? It’s more than likely a trap you know.”

“It is _not!_ ” Erlina cried, her Orlesian accent thick with outrage. “My Lady is in serious trouble, the Arl might kill her! I _beseech_ you, Grey Warden, help my Lady, for old time’s sake!”

Aedan was a sucker. A big one. With a loud sigh, he knew he was going to regret this, especially since everyone in his group just heard that, especially Tanner, who, after the big relevation, was Anora's cousin. Aedan ignored their curious stares, Morrigan's raised eyebrow and Tanner's outright glare. “Why was she going to visit that slime in the first place?”

“To find out if you were really here. She could not just come alone.” Erlina’s eyes did not reach Cousland's. 

Women and their secrects. He rolled his eyes. “Fine. How do we get inside the castle?”

Erlina beamed. “I have disguises for you wear. Keep in mind I can only sneak you and three others in. Anything more would look suspicious.”

He nodded and turned to the Arl. “I shan’t be long, and we will find out how much the Queen really knows about her father.” Aedan turned on his heel and followed Erlina out of the villa.

Once theye were on the Arl’s property, Cousland turned to his chosen three; Alistair of course, Tanner and Aleta. “Just act natural, there are many guards passing through here all the time and four more shouldn’t make a difference.” When he looked at them all for confirmation, he noticed Alistair give him a big cheesy grin. Knowing what he was going to say, Aedan raised an eyebrow. “Out with it then.”

Alistair grinned wider now. “So, you and Anora, eh?” 

Aedan rolled his eyes and was annoyed to see Tanner still glaring. “If you broke her heart I'll be breaking your neck very soon, lad. I only have the one cousin.”

“Fine, if I tell you what little there is to tell, would it shut you pair up?” Aedan said and crossed his arms. “When I visited Denerim with my family, we frequently visited the regent and his daughter. I was sixteen and a hopless romantic and she eighteen and beautiful with the world at her feet.”

Tanner and Alistair waited for him to elaborate and after a few minuetes of silence Tanner said, “That can’t possibly be everything.”

“Don’t hold back the juicy bits!” Alistair added indignantly. 

“What more can be said, apart from divulging what happened behind closed doors? What Anora and I had wasn’t meant to last, she was engaged to the king,” Aedan said, smiling fondly at memories long passed.

“That does not mean she did not miss you, warden. My Lady thought of you often,” Erlina said quietly.

Aedan turned to her, surprised that she would divulge something so private in front of the group. Not wanting to dwell on the past, he urged them forward. “Right, well you go and distract the guards while we sneak in.”

The maid servant nodded and did as she was asked. Within moments they were in the Arl’s castle and Aedan turned to Erlina, “Where are the guest quarters?”

“Towards the back of the castle, warden. As long as you keep to yourselves you shouldn’t be noticed. I will follow at a distance so we do not draw unwanted attention,” she said falling behind them.

The quartet entred the kitchens and walked into the soldiers mess hall, averting their eyes and turned into the training rooms. They continued further into the castle and casually past the barracks, kennels and into a large room that was locked from the opposite. “That is the Arls private dining chambers,” Erlina whisphered. “Keep going. My Lady is just through that door.”

Aedan turned and walked through the door she said and Erlina raced ahead of them. She gasped when she saw that there was a magical barrier covering it. “Oh no! My Lady, are you alright? I have brough the wardens, as you asked.”

There was silence for a moment and then Aedan heard her voice. “Thank you Erlina, but I am afraid we have a problem. There is a magical barrier holding me here and the mage that cast the spell is part of Arl Howe’s personal entourage.”

Cousland rapped on the door with his wrist plate. “And how do we know this isn’t all just a set-up by your father, my Queen?”

“Aedan? Is that you?” She sounded genuinely pleased to know he was there. She quickly changed her tone though. “I mean, this is not a set-up. Things are not the way you left them all those years ago. Free me and I will give you my aid against my father.”

Aedan didn’t really know if he could trust her yet, but either way she had to be freed. Her voice would be needed at the Landsmeet. “If we do that the Arl will know we’re here and sound the alarm.”

“Well if he didn’t already know you are here, he soon will. I will wait here for you,” she said, slightly peeved. 

He grinned. Same old Anora. Tanner cleared his throat. “Well it’s not like you can go anywhere else, right? We'll return soon.” 

“ _Cousin?_ ” She sounded truly stunned when she heard Tanner's voice on the other side of the door. “Help me at once!”

“We will do our best, Anora. Just sit pretty.” When the rogue heard her groan in frustration he chuckled and followed Aedan down the hall. “Where would Howe be right now?” Tanner asked Erlina.

“Probably in his quarters, just straight down that path there.” She pointed the group in the right direction and they hurried away. They passed a few more guest rooms before finally reaching the Arls private quarters. They discreetly slipped into the room and were disapointed to see he wasn’t here. 

“Maybe we should search through his things to maybe find out where he might be, or his intentions?” Tanner suggested, already riffing through drawers and cupboards, pocketing anything of value. At any other time Aedan would object, but considering this was Howe's home-away-from home, he even assisted the rogue in his pilfering.

At the foot of Howe's bed, the warden noticed a stone chest and opened it up. Inside were some papers marked with the seal of the Grey Wardens. “Alistair, is this what I think it is?”

He joined his companion and peered over Aedan's shoulder to read the documents. “Yes. These belong to an Orlesian warden, see the emblem of Orlais in the corner? I wonder where he or she could be?”

“Perhaps down here?” Aleta said, pulling a secret door ajar. 

“Well I’ll be damned!” Alistair exclaimed, and headed down the stairs. When they opened the next door he saw another guard jump at their presence. 

He was standing in front of a cell and when he turned his back the three watched the prisoner grab the guard from behind and strangle him, pick pocket the key, open the cell, drag him into the cell and step out. “I thank you for creating such distraction, stranger. I have been waiting days for an oppourtunity. Do you think you could – Alistair? Is that you?”

“Who? Wait – I _do_ know you. You were at my Joining.” Alistair said, scratching his head. “He’s one of us, a warden from Orlais. Jayder, I think. Or was it Montsimmard? I’m afraid I don’t remember your name.”

The man watched them carefully before deciding they were trustworthy. He bowed low as he answered, “I’m Riordan, senior warden of Jayder, but born and bred in Highever and glad to be home.”

Aedan looked him over carefully, but did not recall ever knowing this man then he crossed his arms and asked, “How did Arl Howe capture you?”

“With an offer of hospitality and a poisend chalice. I was fool enough to think Loghain didn’t yet know who I was.” Riordan sighed, clearly regretting his ill-thought out plan.

Aedan nodded. He knew how treacherous these nobles could be and a ploy like that was highly concievable. A short visit could easily be turned into a permanent stay, and in some cases, one might not ever wake to see another day again. He tilted his head to the side and asked, “Where’s Howe?”

Riordan pointed to a door behind him. “I saw him go into the dungeons. He may still be there.” 

Aedan went over to inspect the door and then turned back to him. “What are you doing here?”

Riordan sighed again. “For the most part, attempting to hold my tongue. I was sent when we received no word from King Cailan as to the outcome of Ostagar.” He looked puzzled. “The King had invited all the wardens of Orlais and their support troops to join him, then… nothing.”

Aedan's eyes met with his, a little hope flaring in his heart. “How large a force did you bring with you?”

“We had two hundered wardens and two dozen divisions of cavalry. The first we heard of Loghain’s edict was when everyone was turned back at the border. That was when the rumor reached us that the warden’s were being blamed for the massacre. We finally decided it was safest to send someone alone, to learn how best to fight the Blight and this regime simultaneously. As a native Ferelden, I volunteered to make the crossing.” 

He leaned into the cell gate as he spoke, watching Aedan's face contort with rage. “But the Archdemon is nealry here! Will we have no help?” It seemed like absoloutly everything was against them. Cousland felt like maybe the wretched Maker wanted Ferelden destroyed, after all he’d done everthing in His power to screw them over so far. Aedan punched the wall hard, ignoring Aleta’s frown.

“The other warden’s will not risk their strength fighting Ferelden’s civil war. If they spend themselves against Loghain, there is truly no hope.” He began to pace backwards and forwards as Riordan continued.

“They recall accounts of the first Blight, how many cities fell. If Ferelden is too foolish to save itself, at least we’ll be ready when the Archdemon leads its forces further. Besides, I hear you haven’t been doing badly at raising an army yourself. But perhaps if the edict can be lifted… I will send a message as soon as we are gone from this place.”

Having to be grateful for what little aid Riordan could provide, Aedan decided to return the favour. He pulled out the documents they found earlier and handed them to him.“Are these your papers?”

Riordan smiled. “Yes, these are my records. The names of the dead I could recognise at Ostagar. What I could find of Duncan’s own recruitment records. Copies of the Joining ritual I resuced from our Denerim’s vault. Those should never be seen by outside eyes, but I trust in their encryption.”

“The joining ritual? Can you induct other Grey Wardens?” Aedan was stunned to think that he could’ve kept something like this still intact.

“Would that I could, for Ferelden sorely needs them. But for the Joining to work, the recruit needs not only fresh darkspawn blood, but a drop of blood preserved from an Archdemon. Ferelden’s supply should have been in the vault, but it was gone. I can only imagine someone took it out and Loghain either confiscated it or destroyed it.” He sounded bitter as he spoke the words.

Believing this was all he would get from this exchange Aedan asked, “Is there more you can tell me about the wardens?”

“This is hardly the best place to talk.” He frowned at Cousland, seeming to wonder why he would ask such a question in front of others who were not of the brotherhod.

Alistair chimed in. “We’ve been staying with Arl Eamon at his estate. If you need a place to stay I’m sure he’d make you welcome.”

Riordan smiled his thanks before bowing again. “At Arl Eamon’s then. And good luck… Brother.”

The warden's thanked him and moved aside so he could leave this place. Hopefully he would make it back to the estate in one piece, they needed all the help they could get. Aedan entered the back door into the dungeons but was stopped by one of the guards. Apparently none were allowed down here save for Howe and his personal guard, and so the trio were attacked on sight. Alistair made quick work of this fool and in four strokes of his blade Aedan slit the throats of the archers protecting him.

They were about to leave this area when Aleta grabbed his shoulder. “Hold a moment, warden. Do you hear that?”

Aedan listened closely and then after a few moments he could hear it too, small whimpers coming from an adjacent room. He went to inspect it and inhaled sharply as he saw a dishevelled man tied to a streching device, obviously he had been tortured, probably by the group they just killed. The warden quickly unbound him and his thanks came pouring like a waterfall. Not that it was needed, since Aedan recognised him anyway, the prisoner introduced himself as Oswyn Bann Sigard of the Dragon’s Peak Bannorn. He pledged his allegience to them at the Landsmeet for their aid and the group stepped aside to let him escape.

That noble was not the only find down here. They killed another wave of guards and took his jail key and found another four victims of Howe’s torture; a war veteren named Rexel, an elf from the alienage, a templar named Irminric who they discovered to be the brother of Alfstanna, the noble they saw at the tavern and Vaughn Kendall, son of Howe’s predecessor, Arl Urien. The group freed them all, except Vaughn, who Aedan killed on sight for bieng a racist and a cruel man and they too vowed to aid him at the Landsmeet.

Further into the bowels of the dungeon they found Arl Howe, the treacherous bastard. Aedan swung his sword in the air in a threatning posture. “ _Howe_. You're going to die, you sick fuck.”

“Aedan.” Howe acknowledged, pulling his twin daggers from his belt, smirking. “You were not supposed to survive Highever. I will rectify that.”

The two ran at each other, Aedan swinging wildly, frustrated as the Arl, despite his twenty or so years on the young noble, sidestepped each slash. Aedan yelled and lunged his shield forward, hoping to catch his opponent off guard. Howe chuckled and rolled out of reach, yelling orders to the four soldiers and mage to attack.

This part of the dungeon was too small an area for his crossbow, so instead Tanner leaped into the fray alongside Alistair and took on the four guards armed with swords and sheilds. Alistair kicked out, making one of the soldiers careen backwards, smashing into the soldier behind him and Tanner took the oppourtunity to slice his jugular open. He also made short work of the other soldier who fell down as well. Alister rammed another soldier comming at him, thier sheilds clashing angrily as they wrestled for control. The fourth soldier was trying to protect the mage holding Anora's prison cell key from Aleta. Aleta whirlled her staff around in wide circles and the wooden beams that kept the door intact began to give way then hurtle forward. The guard braced himself for the impact but the beams suddenly caught on fire, disintergrating as the mage behind him yelled an incantation. Aleta swore and began to mutter incantations of her own. The guard took this distraction as an oppourtunity and ran at Aleta. Realising that she would not be able to finish her spell, Aleta thrust her staff down, blocking the slashing sword the way Sten had taught her, reefed it backwards then summoned strength from the Fade and pushed back - hard. 

The guard stumbled backwards but recovered quickly, smacking her with the butt of his hilt. She fell to the floor and just as he was about to bring his sword down, he felt something sharp in his back. The guard collapsed at her feet, making choking noises, blood gurgling in his mouth. Tanner helped her to her feet and she quickly disabled the mage who held the key to Anora’s door. Tanner finished the mage off and saw that Alistair had won the struggle as he pulled his sword out of the soldiers guts.

They looked up to see Aedan and Howe still battling, though this time Aedan had seemed to have gained the upper hand. Howe blocked a nasty swipe with both his blades crossed. Aedan applied more pressure and forced Howe to kneel to be able to hold the defensive position, “ _Nnngggh!_ Maker's light, boy!”

“ **Rrraargh!** ” Aedan roared as he released his sword and spun around, smacking Howe in the temple with the sharp edges of his sheild. The older man dropped his blades and moaned, feeling his face bruise. He scrambled backwards on the floor in panic as he realised his guards were dead. Aedan stalked him, his shadow enveloping the terrified noble like a vengeful demon. “For my _Mother_ , and my _Father_... For my _sister-in-law_ and my _nephew_ , you **bastard!** ” He thrust his sword into the older man's chest for each slain family member and savoured the surprised gasp as Howe lie on the floor bleeding out. With his dying breath he gurgled, “Maker spit on you. I deserved – _urk_ – more!” Aedan stabbed him in the gut, disgusted, and watched as the light left his eyes. I have avenged you, Father. Rest in peace with the Maker.

Alistair wanted to comfort him, but knew that now was not the time. They made their way back through the dungeons and right up to Anora’s room. Aedan inserted the key and the barrier fell down. Slowly, the queen emerged from her quarters, dressed in a soldier’s uniform, no less! Tanner smirked. “Nice get-up, 'Norey.”

She rolled her eyes in an unamused manner but smiled back. “I thought I might need a disguise, since you all had one.”

Aedan shook his head. “No matter, we are leaving. Now.” He took her hand and the others followed as they all but ran to the double doors on the other side of the room. But they halted at the sight of Cuthrian and a horde of archers and a single mage. 

Anora moaned as Aedan unknowingly squeezed her hand too tight. “Sorry,” he muttered, fuming. 

Cuthrian smiled smugly. “The regent commands your complete surrender, wardens. The rest of you can go free.”

Aedan turned to Anora, who looked slightly uncomfortable. His first thought was, she set us up, but there was a glint in her eyes that made him believe she was just as infuriated as he was. She must have seen something in the warden's own eyes as she shook her head slowly, as if to plead he don’t fight with Cuthrian. Grinding his teeth Aedan turned to Cuthrian and nodded. “Ever the guard bitch, aren’t you Cuthrian?”

She tilted her head to the side. “Now now, cur, no need for insults. Lower your weapons and prepare to be taken into custody.” She then looked at Anora. “The regent is mighty displeased with you, my Queen. He prays you come to your senses and soon.”

Anora glared at her and watched as Alistair and Aedan were slapped in chains and moved out. She turned to Tanner and Aleta. “Come, we must inform Eamon, immediately.” They stared at her for a few moments but followed her out anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dalish translations
> 
> Ir abelas - I'm sorry  
> Ma serannas - My thanks  
> Arlathvhen - Love of the People (the meeting of the Dalish clans every ten years)  
> Fenedhis - Crap  
> Vhenan - Heart
> 
> Qunlat translations
> 
> Kadan - Where the/my heart lies, endearment  
> Asit tal-eb - It is to be/The way it's meant to be  
> Pasharra - Enough  
> Na'thek - As you wish  
> Meravas - So shall it be


	22. The Landsmeet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The time has come to settle the the score with the regent. Arl Eamon has called for the Landsmeet and the nobles are ready to listen. All cannon belongs to Bioware. Tanner and Aleta belong to me.

# Chapter Twenty-One: The Landsmeet

“Well this is just peachy, huh?” Alistair chuckled weakly as he thumped his head against the bars of their joined cell.

The two wardens had been stripped of all their belongings and wore only their smalls before they were dragged down into the bowels of Fort Drakon. Thankfully they handn't been tortured, but Alistair suspected that was only because the regent was preoccupied with the impending Landsmeet. He was still in decent spirits, considering this situation could have been a lot worse. However, Aedan did not exactly see this the same way.

“I can’t believe he got us _again!_ I swear that I’m going to kill that son-of-a-peg-legged-whore! I’m going to squeeze the life out of him with my _bare hands!_ ” Aedan roared as he punched the wall, ignoring Alistair as he cringed. Aedan's knuckles split open and blood poured between his fingers but the warden didn't seem to care, nor feel it. “This is _bullshit!_ We should be _out_ there, marching on those monstrous beasts, not locked down here like criminals! Maker damn them all!”

Alistair closed the gap between them and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. “I understand your frustrations, I do. Breaking your hand won't help though, not unless you're a golem.” Alistair grinned, hoping to make his warden brother do the same, but the irate stare he received made it clear that now was not the time for jokes. Alistair coughed awkwardly and removed his hand, leaning against the bars and stared out at the stone walls.

Several minutes later Aedan exhaled wearily. “Alistair I'm sorry. I know you meant well, but I've lost so much and to be thrown in here really was the last straw. I have to stop that bastard Mac Tir before he cripples the country. Without our intervention we might as well serve Ferelden to the darkspawn on a silver platter.”

“I understand. Tell me what needs to be done.” The blonde warden stood up straight up, giving Aedan his full attention. He was inclined to agree.

Aedan smiled weakly at Alistair's enthusiasm. “First thing's first, we have to get the hell out of here. We're of no use trapped like rats.” He looked around waiting for the lone guard to return on his patrol. Once he made eye contact, the warden motioned for the guard to come over.

With a heavy sigh, the unfortunate guard fell for the trap. Faster than a bolt of lightning, Aedan reached out and grabbed the guard's tunic and rammed him against the bars, dazing him. Aedan nodded at Alistair and the warden reached for the guard's weapon and gutted him with it before snatching the key ring at his belt. He tried three different keys before the lock on their cell swung open. “Freedom at last,” Aedan murmured as they stepped over the body and opened the chest directly opposite, grabbing their gear and moved out. They listened for more guards and neither warden was impressed nor surprised to hear there was more patrolling the dungeons. It seemed the only way out of here was to use disguises again and they snuck into the armoury and switched from rags to armour. 

They had made it out of the dungeons and to the upper floors when they were stopped by a senior guard. “You two are new. Get yourselves to the captain for your tests.”

Aedan entertained thoughts of killing him right there, but there were considerably more guards here than all of Denerim and so the noble thought better of it. Instead, Aedan nodded and followed him to the captains quarters where they were given an encouragement speech and told that to buy their own swords in order to pass a test. That couldn’t be too hard. The two wardens went looking for the quartermaster and talked him into giving them one for free. The two then went back to the captain and he gave them the password to exit the training grounds and back into Denerim for their first 'patrol'.

They were just past the mess hall when they noticed Tanner and Oghren moving towards them. Aedan frowned, confused as to what they were trying to do and when they met up halfway, Oghren and Aedan clasped arms before saying, “We here to bust you outta here, warden. The lad was worried for your safety.”

Tanner sighed in relief before slapping the two of them on the back saying apologetically, “I apologise for leaving you there, wardens. Anora was adamant that we wait to sneak you out. She's gone too far this time, I - ”

Aedan smiled and they exited the great war barracks. “There usually is a method to her madness, Tanner, as you might remember. She'll be busy organising the politics by now, wheedling poor Eamon into giving her the crown, to occupied to cause further trouble.”

“You can bloody say that again!” Oghren laughed. “She’s prattling Eamon’s ear off about being the ‘true power’ in Denerim. You better get back there and sort her out.”

Aedan rolled his eyes, sharing an exasperated moment with Tanner. They both knew Anora could be very long winded. Hopefully she wouldn’t drive anyone to do something rash. Aedan still had a few loose ends to tie up. He quickly made his way back to the tavern and explained to the nobles what had transpired in the Arl’s dungeons. They were angry of course, but not with him. They said they too would lend their support at the meeting and Aedan's heart lifted. That was just about every single nobleman and noblewoman who would be attending granting Alistair aid. This was good news.

He quickly made his way back to the villa and was not at all surprised to see Anora in an inflamed argument with Eamon. “Eamon, Alistair could serve Ferelden no better as king than I could lead armies! He is not king material!”

“Anora, this whole petition is about putting Alistair on the throne! You knew this long before the warden and I came to Denerim,” Eamon replied gently.

“But - !” Anora was about to argue further when the two of them finally noticed the quartet had arrived. She shut her mouth very quickly after that.

They locked gazes and the Queen swallowed nervously. Aedan nodded curtly at her before turning to the greying Arl. The noble had been thinking about this predicament for a while. He knew Anora had a point, and so too did Eamon. Aedan thought he had come up with the perfect solution, though he didn’t think either of them would think so, not at first. “Enough of your squabbling, Anora. I have an answer to our dilemma.”

Cousland now had their full attention. “Alistair will marry Anora, thereby securing the throne with Therin blood.” 

“What! I will never – ”

“You can’t be _serious!_ ”

He shut them both up with the wave of his hand. “This is perfect. Alistair you can lead the army of Ferelden to victory and you, Anora, can lead the politics here in Denerim. You have a true flair for that anyway.”

Eamon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That is a stroke of pure genius. We might actually pull this off.” Nodding his head, Eamon added, “But only if both parties are willing to agree to this.” They looked expectantly to both of them.

Anora was the first to recover. She looked Aedan up and down slightly angry before saying, “Apart from Alistair looking painfully like my poor dead husband, Calian, I have no problem with this. Provided this arrangement stays true.”

Alistair stood there, mouth agape. He did not want this responsibility, never had he dreamed about being king. Damn his heritage, wasn't there someone else who could rule? There wasn't many eligible nobles left except... Wait! Alistair stopped staring as a brilliant thought struck him. “You know I'm not the only one prepped for ruling a kingdom.”

Aedan and Anora stared at him, bewildered. Then Aedan's eyes widened. “Alistair, no. Just _no_.”

Alistair's eyes lit up and he nodded excitedly. “It's perfect! You're a much better leader then I could ever be! You know the customs, protocols, Maker, even the Queen! _You_ could become the leader the country needs!”

Anora was flabbergasted at first, then she thought it over. “He does have a point, Aedan, though I still would prefer to rule alone.”

Eamon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I would prefer to keep the monarchy in the Therin line, Alistair, but you are correct. Aedan is more suited. What say you, warden?”

Aedan's thoughts were scattered. How had this happened? He already had a plan implemented, a damn good plan, and just like that it was unravelling. He sighed. “You would prefer this, Anora? After everything that's happened, and going to happen?”

The Queen gave a curt nod. “If that is my only option, then yes, for the sake of my country and order. What of your lover? Won't she object to such an arrangement?”

Aedan felt a stab in his gut at the thought of Morrigan. What would she think about this? The irony was she'd likely approve, despite however she might feel to the contrary. As king he'd have more power than any rank he could climb as a warden. He'd have an entire nation, its wealth, influence and contacts all at his fingertips. He'd always love Morrigan, he realised as the stabbing feeling intensified, but would she love him? Did she love him, and was she even capable of such an emotion? At any rate it was irrelevant and a decision needed to be made, now. He turned to Alistair. “You are sure?”

Alistair laughed. “My friend, I could never be more sure of anything! Take the crown, and do what I cannot.” 

Aedan nodded, saying, “Then it is done, Eamon. Alistair and I will do our best to quell the Blight and I'll return to marry the Queen. Do I have your blessing?” 

Satisfied, Eamon smiled and replied, “You do, warden. All that is left is to attend the Landsmeet. Arrive as soon as possible, please warden. The fate of Ferelden rests on the outcome of this meeting of lords.”

* * * * *

They only had a few moments before they left for the palace, but it was enough time for Alistair to have a private moment with his companion. “I cannot put into words how much I appreciate what you did for me in there. I will never forget it.”

Aedan grimaced. “You owe me, _big_ time. I can't believe what just happened. King! Maker's hairy arsehole!”

Alistair chuckled. “I wouldn't rightly know if it was hairy or not, but he sure stepped up and helped me out of a horrendous situation today!” After a few more snorts and giggles, likely high on freedom, the warden calmed himself and looked serious. “As your friend I feel the need to ask about Morrigan. What Anora said back there was true, you and her aren't exactly finished are you? How are you going to explain this?” 

Aedan ran an agitated hand through his hair. Morrigan and the rest of their companions were in another wing of the castle and had not yet been informed of the change in plans. “I don't know... You saw what happened at camp, she'll probably leave soon anyway. Besides, she doesn't care about anyone but herself.” Alistair nodded, glad to see Aedan was finally coming around, and then he groaned as Aedan added with a moan, “Only... I still _love_ her, damnit!”

There was so many things Alistair could've said in response, but he was better than that. He put a hand on Aedan's shoulder and squeezed. “I'll be there to help you through, brother.”

Aedan smiled and nodded. “I'd appreciate it, brother.” After several minutes silence Aedan cleared his throat and said solemnly, “Let's go deliver the bad news, shall we?”

“Want to hide behind our shields? Probably not big enough but worth a shot, right?” Aedan chuckled and they left for Morrigan's quarters in the guest wing. 

Alistair offered him an encouraging smile before trying his best not to skip away too happily. She was hunched over the grimoire and Aedan drew his brows together angrily. She did not hear him knock on the door and was quite startled to hear him call her name. She looked him up and down and at the downward curl of his lip and folded arms and guarded expression she said shrewdly, “Something is amiss.”

Aedan stared back at her, titling his head to the side. “Correct. There has been a... development.”

Morrigan closed the grimoire slowly and rose to her feet. “I see. And would this have anything to do with Alistair and his spineless misgivings about wearing the crown?”

Aedan scowled. “Watch your tone, Morrigan. His misgivings are well-founded and hardly spineless. Better men have buckled under the pressure of ruling a country.”

The witch of the wilds pursed her lips together tightly, her eyes hard. She was angry underneath that facade of calm, and there was no denying the surly tone as she replied, “But not you? I assume this is your charming way of confirming my suspicions. You are to wed the willful Queen of Ferelden I take it?”

Aedan closed his eyes and counted to ten before opening them. Morrigan's eyes darkened, emotion swirling behind those fathomless depths. “I am. I can do much for this battered country by wearing the crown, whether Anora agrees with me or not. I have little else left.”

She visibly flinched and Aedan was confused. He did not understand women, especially this one. He crossed his arms at her tight reply. “I see. You are a much better fit than Alistair, that much I am certain. I wish you luck, warden.” There was little else to say and he nodded, turned on his heel and left her there. Had he waited a split second longer he'd have seen her eyes well and tears roll down her face.

* * * *

Before they entered the Landsmeet chambers they were met with Cuthrian, who seemed hell bent on fighting them. After a short speech about Loghain being the greatest hero in Ferelden’s history, they engaged in close combat. She was proficient with a great sword and made the wardens work for every inch.

She got Aedan good a couple of times, but it wasn’t enough to save her. With a final bash of his shield, her sword went flying and she was defenceless. He nodded his respect before ending her life and pushed open the great doors that led to the Landsmeet.

As they walked in, they heard Eamon’s voice, strong and ringing with conviction. “My Lords and Ladies of the Landsmeet, Teryn Loghain would have us give up our freedoms, our traditions, out of fear. He placed us on this path, yet we should place our destiny in his hands? Must we sacrifice everything good about our nation to save it?”

The crowd applauded loudly. Aedan thought it sounded something akin to a roaring of a lion. Somewhere further ahead he head a single set of hands clapping, quelling the crowd and he scowled deeply when he heard Loghain begin his retaliation. “A fine performance, Eamon, but no-one here is taken in by it. You would attempt to put a puppet on the throne, and every soul here knows it. The better question is, who will pull the strings?” 

His voice drooled with sarcasm. Upon noticing the Grey Wardens and their enterouge his voice was as equally passionate as he continued the debate. “Ahh! And here we have the puppeteer. Tell us warden, how will the Orlesians take our nation from us? Will they deign to send their troops, or simply issue their commands through this would-be prince? What did they offer you? How much is the price of Ferelden honour now?” 

They were almost withing striking distance of the regent when his guard blocked them from getting closer. Aedan was furious but knew he had to keep his cool. This was a battle of words, for now. “The Blight is the threat here, not Orlais!”

From high above where the nobles sat, a single voice agreed, calling out, “There are enough refugee’s in my Bannorn now to make that abundantly clear.” 

The crowd began to murmur amongst themselves, the political debate starting to sway some. Then another noble, one Aedan recognised as the poor, broken man from the tavern, Bann Wulff who had lost both his children to the darkspwan, said, “The south is fallen, Loghain! Will you let the darkspawn take the whole country for fear of Orlais?”

Loghain seemed troubled by this. Aedan knew he cared about his soldiers, well the ones that were loyal and he felt for this man in particular, but he was determined to have him see it his way.“The Blight is indeed real, Wulff. But do we need a Grey Warden to fight it?”

Loghain started to pace back and forth as he continued. “They claim they alone can end the Blight, yet they failed spectacularly against the darkspwan at Ostagar, and they ask to bring with them four legions of chevaliers. And once we open our borders to the chevaliers, can we really expect them to simply return to whence they came?” He almost spat the words. 

Once he got started on the Orlesians, there was no holding him back. Tanner had fought alongside him and knew he had a point, but this was not about an Orlesian invasion, this was about the Blight, and him trying to take the throne, through violence. Tanner felt compelled that his uncle was not going to manipulate the crowd like this, not without taking a shot at it himself anyway. “You allowed Rendon Howe to imprison and torture innocents!”

Another noble from Dragon’s Peak, added weight to the rogue's accusation. “This man speaks truly! My son was taken in the cover of night. The things done to him… some are beyond any healer skill.”

The crowd yelled, outraged, and some screamed in panic. But Loghain was quick to find a loophole there too. He scowled terribly at his nephew, his thoughts written all over his face – traitor. “Howe was responsible for himself. He will answer to the Maker for any wrongs committed in this life. As must we all.”

He finally looked away from Tanner to Aedan and said, “But you know that. You were the one who murdered him. Whatever Howe may have done, he should have been brought before the seneschal. There is no justice in butchering a man in his home.”

That was the cheapest shot he’d gotten yet. Aedan reached for his blade but Alistair held it in place before he could unsheathe it. Aedan looked at him, blind with rage. Then Leliana too, put a hand on Aedan. With the two of them pressing firmly down on his hands, Cousland came to his senses. He rattled his brain for the other evidence they had scrounged up. “No? Then why did you send a blood mage to poison Arl Eamon?”

To Aedan's complete disgust, Loghain actually smiled, bitter though it was. “I assure you warden, if I were going to send someone, it would be my own soldiers. I would not trust the discretion of an apostate.”

The first noble that spoke up at the beginning, came to their defence yet again. She was very angry as she spat, “Indeed? My brother tells a very different tale. He says you snatched a blood mage from the Chantry’s justice. Coincidence?”

Then the revered mother added, “Do not think the Chantry will overlook this, Teryn Loghain. Interferance in the templar’s sacred duties is an offence against the Maker.”

This had rallied the crowd in Alistiar's favour, or so it seemed, and Aedan thoroughly enjoyed it as his face fell from that arrogant smirk to embarrassment. But, he was a tough old bastard and had yet more to say.“Whatever I have done, I will answer for later. At the moment, however, I wish to know what this warden has done with my daughter.”

Aedan rolled his eyes. “We’re discussing your crimes here.”

It seemed Loghain had one more trick up his sleeve. That smirk Aedan had grown to hate reared its ugly head again as he drawled, “You took my daughter – our Queen – by force, killing her guards in the process. What arts have you employed to keep her? Does she even still live?”

Aedan was about to reply when everyone gasped as Anora came slinking out of the shadows. She had a dark look on her face, one Tanner and Aedan both recognised as trouble. “I believe I can speak for myself. Lords and ladies of Ferelden, hear me. This warden has slandered and defamed Ferelden’s greatest hero in a bid to put an imposter on the throne.”

That _bitch!_ After everything they’d been through, the arrangements that had been made! It was going to benefit her in the end, what the hell was her problem?! Alistair was outraged as he spluttered, “He tried to kill you!”

Anora, the bitch, smiled ever so sweetly. “Did he? Are you certain of that? I know my father. He would never do less than his utmost for the sake of his country. But I needed to know your mind, warden. You could have proven yourself an ally of Ferelden. It is unfortunate for us all that you did not.” She and the wardens exchanged looks; hers easily read _I do this for Ferelden’s benifit_ and theirs read _you’re dead meat._

Loghain was practically glowing as he gloated. “Who here can say that Anora is not fit to rule this land? And who can say this Alistair is? We know nothing of him save that he may have royal blood. For five years Anora has been queen, proven herself worthy of Therin name. She can lead our people through this crisis and I can lead her armies.”

The Landsmeet was coming to a close and he knew it. He pressed home his advantage as he added, “My lords and ladies, our land has been threatened before. It’s been invaded, and lost, and won times beyond counting. We Ferelden’s have proven that we will never truly be conquered so long as we are united. We must not let ourselves be divided now. Stand with me, and we shall defeat even the Blight itself!”

That was it. It was time for everyone to vote, and it was a shoe-in. Aedan had nothing to worry about with seven votes for Alistair including four major ones; South Reach, Waking Sea, Dragon’s Peak, Western Hills, and only one noble voting for Loghain. Cousland wore a smirk of his own as he said, “The Landsmeet is against you, Loghain. Step down gracefully.”

Loghain was fuming. With a viscous tone he hollered at the nobles, “ _Traitors!_ Which of you stood against the Orlesian emperor when his troops flattened your fields and raped your wives?” 

He pointed a plated finger up at the Arl. “You fought with us once, Eamon. You cared about the land once. Before you got too old and fat and content to even see what you risk. None of you deserve a say in what happens here! None of you have spilled blood for this land the way I have! How dare you judge me!” He whirled around and glared viciously at his nephew. “You are a bloody disgrace, Tanner! My own flesh and blood, turning on me now!”

Tanner's heart beat wildly. Now was the time to make his choice. The evidence was piled high against Loghain and been revealed for the arrogant, war-mongering general he was. With a broken heart Tanner raised his crossbow. “No uncle. The disgrace is you.”

Now Aedan unsheathed his blade with no one restraining him, acutely aware of him and his raised voice. “Call off your men and we’ll settle this honorably.”

Loghain was about to carry on some more but decided this was the better course of action. “Then let us end this.”

He looked the warden up and down, unbelieving. “I suppose we both knew it would come to this. A man is made by the quality of his enemies. Maric told me that once. I wonder if it’s more a compliment to you or to me?”

He was lost in thought for a moment or two before exiting his reverie. “Enough! Let the Landsmeet declare the terms of this duel.”

Another noble came forward and said, “It shall be fought according to tradition; a test of arms in single combat until one party yields. And we who are assembled will abide by the outcome.”

Loghain turned to Aedan. “Will you face me yourself, or do you have a champion?”

Aedan clenched his blade eagerly. “I will fight you myself, and take great pleasure in it.”

Loghain tilted his head to the side. “It is you or me the men will follow. So let us fight for it. Prepare yourself.”

They sized each other up for a moment before the action began. Loghain was the first to charge. He had experience and technique, Aedan had youth and finesse, but they were evenly matched. Aedan threw his shield up to meet his and it became a test of might. He pushed hard, growling and grunting and Aedan pushed back, determined not to give him an inch. 

They pulled back and circled each other. Aedan was the first to find a weak point and exploit it. Loghain saw it coming though and smirked as he parried his sword, slashing at his exposed flank. Aedan swerved out of the way and his blade smacked the stone floor beneath them. The warden took this moment to shoulder barge him and managed to slice at the back of his leg, cutting the plate and ripping at Loghain's flesh. 

The great general didn’t even flinch. Instead this seemed to have the complete opposite effect. He smiled at his enemy then, and readjusted his sword and shield and ran at Cousland. They parried some more before he tripped Aedan and tried to stomp his face. The noble rolled, but wasn’t quick enough to avoid the foot on his shoulder. Pain seared right through him but he wasn’t going to give Loghain the satisfaction of crying out. He had broken part of Aedan's left arm, and he couldn’t hold his shield up properly.

An eye for an eye, Aedan thought. Tossing his shield into the crowd, he again parried Aedan's sword against his but the younger man was quicker. Loghain left himself open at the last minute and Aedan rammed him with his good shoulder and the regent stumbled backwards, dropping his own shield. He recovered quickly though, and they were left without shields now.

The two men were both getting tired now, the plate they wore weighing heavily. This made Loghain sloppy, and it wasn’t long before Cousland had bested him. He fell to his knees and the noble pointed his blade at a pressure point in his neck.

Loghain looked up at Aedan, respect flaring in his eyes. “I underestimated you, warden. I thought you were like Cailan, a child wanting to play at war. I was wrong. There’s a strength in you I have not seen anywhere since Maric died. I yield.”

Aedan didn’t want his respect, he wanted his life. “You’ll die for what you’ve done, Loghain.”

Just as he was about to send him to the Maker, Riordan intervened. “Wait! There is another option!” 

Out of the corner of his eye Aedan saw Alistair scowl.

“The Teryn is a warrior and general of renown. Let him be of use to us. Let him go through the Joining,” Riordan urged.

Aedan tried to follow his train of thought. “You want to make him a warden? Why?”

Riordan said logically, “There are three of us in all Ferelden. And there are… compelling reasons to have as many Grey Wardens on hand as possible to deal with the Archdemon.”

Aedan was still trying to see how this would benefit them when Anora added hopefully, “The Joining itself is often fatal, is it not? If he survives, you gain a general. If not, you gain your revenge. Does that satisfy you?”

But Alisair wasn’t having any of it. He made Aedan remember why they had come all this way, what they were fighting for. This problem they had with Loghain was not just personal, it was about his failed leadership and betrayal of the people. “Absolutely not! Riordan, this man abandoned our brothers and blamed us for the deed! He hunted us down like animals. He tortured you! How can we simply forget that?”

Aedan's decision was made. “No, Loghain has to die for his crimes.”

Anora took a step closer to him, pleading, “You can’t do this! My father may have been wrong, but he is still a hero to the people.” Then she turned to Tanner, but the rogue refused to meet her eyes, he was so disgusted.

Loghain accepted his fate without further quarrel and took her hands in his own, wiping her tears away. “Anora, hush. It’s over.”

She shook him away. “Stop treating me like a child! This is serious.”

Loghain sighed, clearly regretting the path he had taken. “Daughter’s never grow up, Anora. They remain six years old with pigtails and skinned knees forever.”

Anora sobbed as she whispered, “ _Father!_ ”

Loghain then turned to Aedan. “Just make it quick, warden. I can face the Maker knowing that Ferelden is in your hands.”

Out of respect for the fight, Aedan did kill him swiftly. One clean slice and his head rolled on the floor, splattering them all with his blood. Anora fell to his body and wept. Tanner gripped his crossbow until his knuckles whitened and furiously blinked back tears.

Eamon then stepped down from his balcony and said, “And so it is decided, Lord Cousland will take Alistair’s place on the throne.”

Alistair nodded eagerly. “Absoloutley! Take it, please!”

Anora bent over her father's body and continued to weep, pushing Eamon aside angrily as he patted her shoulder gently. After several moments she composed herself and stood beside Aedan. “Very well.”

Aedan sheathed his weapon and reached for his shield with his good arm, allowing Wynne to work her medicinal magic. Eamon said in a commanding tone loud enough for the rest of the nobles to hear, “We have our new King and Queen of Ferelden. What say you all?”

The room erupted in applause and cheers, apparently Ferelden loved to see a monarch of action and his deeds had finally won them over.

Anora smiled through her pain and Aedan had to give her credit. She really was fit to rule after all. “As soon as your king returns victorious from the battlefield, we shall be wed and return Ferelden to its glory. Let us stand behind him and the remaining Grey Wardens, for they are our only hope of salvation.” She paused while the applause and cheers intensified. “Until then, I shall stay in Denerim and rule in my husbands absence, as I did for Cailan.”

Aedan turned to Alistair and smiled and said, “My fellow Grey Warden will, I hope, take Loghain’s place as the new leader of my armies. Shall we finish this thing together?”

Alistair knew he shouldn’t have been surprised by this outcome, but he was. The ex-templar smiled confidently at his new king and nodded. Aedan now addressed the nobles of the Landsmeet. “My lords and ladies, honourable King Cailan set remarkable and virtuous standards and I will strive to uphold them. In the name of Ferelden, I will lead our army to victory!”

Anora turned to Aedan, and now her fiancee and smiled, really smiled. “May the Maker be with you, Aedan. I am, and your country also, if the noise is any indicator.”

* * * * *

After the explosive results of the Landsmeet, Alistair gathered all his companions aside from Aedan into the sitting room of the Arl’s chambers. He had stayed behind to make everything legal. It was a few hours later that he emerged, an exhausted yet satisfied look on his face. “It's now official. What a day this has been!”

Alistair smiled sympathetically, he would not want to be in his shoes either. “I would say I'm sorry but I'm really not! Think about all that coin you're allowed to spend!”

Aedan chuckled. “I just bet you're not! Enjoy your freedom while it lasts because once this Blight is dealt with, I'm dragging your sorry backside back here. Unless Weisshaupt sends for you beforehand, that is.” 

Alistair sighed. “You really know how to cheer a guy up, don't you?”

Aedan folded his arms and grimaced. “It's a real possibility now, Alistair. Depending on how successful we are against the Archdemon, your assistance will prove invaluable to the wardens. This is the first Blight in four hundred years, they'll want details, as well as your name in history.”

Alistair exhaled loudly. “Right beside yours, I'd imagine. King and Grey Warden. If you're lucky, they might just pull you off the throne just because they can."

Aedan glanced at his companions, his eyes lingering on Morrigan a bit longer and adjusted his sword at his side. “They could try. I have things to do here. I did not give up my freedom and a second chance with Morrigan to be drawn out into conflict a second time.”

Alistair sighed. “I wouldn't want to be the one to give you that news.” With one last look at the castle, Alistair added, “Then it’s settled. Arl Eamon has left for Redcliffe, he says the army has gathered there and he’s almost ready to march. As soon as we are ready we should head to Redcliffe ourselves. The Blight awaits, right?”

“It does,” Aedan growled and led the party out of the castle and into the streets of Denerim.

* * * *

Before they left the city of Denerim, Aedan wanted to make sure everyone had tied up all their loose ends. “We might not all be coming back from this so if you have anyone you want to see or say goodbyes to, I would suggest you do it now.”

Alistair dropped one last dramatic moment on them – he had a sister he wanted to see before he went to battle. She turned out to be a nightmare and Aedan had no time for her, and neither did Alistair when he realised she wanted nothing but money. Wynne and Oghren both had a bit of unfinished business in the Brecillian Forest and Lake Calenhad, and Zevran also need to sort something out in one of the back alleyways. Once these were sorted Aedan didn't waste any more time and hired horses for everyone and hurried as fast as he could to Redcliffe.

When they returned to Redcliffe, the village was empty. It almost looked as though everyone had vanished. It wasn't until they reached the bridge leading into the town that they discovered what had happened. One of the villagers was standing in the centre of the bridge, and when he saw the wardens, he rushed over. “Andraste's mercy you got here when you did. I thought for sure those monsters were going to eat me,” he said.

“Slow down, what monsters? Where is everyone?” Aedan asked quickly.

The man was panicked. “They all fled to the castle when the darkspawn attacked! I thought I could make it to my home and back before they got here, but it took me too long to get down here.” He ran a frantic hand through his hair, trying to regain some sort of composure. “What a relief you arrived!” he said, finally calming down.

Aedan's face grew ashen as his stomach twisted into unpleasant knots. _Darkspawn? Here? Then that means the Archdemon knows we’re coming_. “You should get yourself some place safe,” Aedan said kindly. “Anything could happen now.” He nodded and made a beeline for the town. 

They made there way down the winding path and across the bridge that would lead them to the centre of the village. Thanks to the warning from the man, they were ready for the darkspawn that awaited them below, and were easily dispatched. Once they cleared the village, making sure to inform the villagers that the darkspawn had been slain, Aedan marched for the castle. Not surprisingly, more of the filthy creatures were lying in wait. After killing them, one of the Redcliffe knights ran down the stairs towards the wardens. “You're here! Thank goodness!” he said.

Aedan whirled around, anger flushing his cheeks. “What the hell happened? How did the darkspawn get into Redcliffe?” He demanded, suddenly looking every part a king.

The guard stammered nervously. “I... I don't rightly know, sir. Riordan of the Grey Wardens arrived this morning, just ahead of the darkspawn. I was told he had urgent news, and to send out patrols to watch for your arrival. Then we were attacked...” Aedan gave him a moment to regain his composure before asking him to take him inside. The guard nodded, relieved Aedan was satisfied with the report.

Riordan was waiting inside the great hall with Bann Teagan and the Arl. Isolde stood a fair ways from them, sobbing quietly. The veteran warden sighed happily. “It is a relief to see you unharmed.” He turned to Alistair and nodded. “And you as well, Alistair. The darkspawn that attacked Redcliffe were relatively few in number, I'm afraid. It was assumed the horde was marching in this direction, but that is not true.”

Arl Eamon nodded in agreement, his face grim. “Riordan tells us the bulk of the horde is in fact, headed for Denerim. They are perhaps two days away from the capitol.”

“How certain are we that this information is true and correct?” Teagan asked, frowning at Riordan.

“I ventured close enough to 'listen in' as it were. I am quite certain,” Riordan answered politely.

Aedan glared at them all, pissed off that they had come all this way for nothing, or so it seemed. “Then we must leave for Denerim immediately!”

As the young noble turned on his heel and was about to proceed forward, Riordan called him back. “There is one more piece of news that of even more concern.” Aedan turned around, still glaring. “The Archdemon has shown itself. The dragon is at the head of the horde.”

Everyone but Riordan gasped. “Maker preserve us!” Teagan exclaimed, while the two new wardens swore. Eamon, however, said nothing.

“We won't be able to reach Denerim in two days, not before the Archdemon gets there,” Alistair realised slowly.

At last the Arl of Redcliffe spoke up. “Then we must begin a forced march to the capitol immediately, with what forces we have. Denerim must be defended at all costs.”

“I agree. If Denerim falls, the rest of Ferelden will soon follow,” Aedan said, following the Arl's train of thought. 

Riordan stroked his stubble thoughtfully. “The horde must be defeated, I agree, but the Archdemon is our true target. Only the Grey Wardens can defeat it, that is why we must go.” He stared piercingly at Aedan and Alistair.

“Then we march, and hope the army collected here gives you the chance you need. Arl Eamon, how long before the army can set out?” Aedan demanded, trying desperately to hide the worry in his voice.

Eamon turned to him and said quietly, “By daybreak, Your Majesty.”

Aedan turned to Alistair swiftly, cringing only a little at the new title. “Then give the order. The longer we delay, the longer Denerim will be at the mercy of the horde. 

“It will be done,” Alistair said with a quick nod. 

Eamon shifted his focus from Alistair to Aedan. “I will give the order at once, and will notify you the moment we're ready to march.”

Aedan didn't miss a beat. He was ready. With another nod to the Arl, he saw that Riordan was trying to get his attention. “Then if you and Alistair could meet me before you retire, we have Grey Warden business to discuss.” The two new wardens agreed.

“I will have someone show you to your rooms. I suggest you all get some rest while you can, we will need it,” Eamon said. Then everyone left the main hall.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read. This work has been in the planning stages for almost six years and there are parts that I'm still looking to improve on. I'd truly appreciate any feedback, constructive criticism and/or thoughts you might have.


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